


Gotta Catch'em All

by SioDymph



Category: Gravity Falls, Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Stan and Rick try to raise children what do you expect?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SioDymph/pseuds/SioDymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick from dimension G-421 uses everyone's hype over Pocket Mortys to rescue/kidnap a whole bunch of them and bring them back to his apartment and Stan reacts like that one Buzzfeed video where they keep giving puppies to drunk girls.</p><p>And the shenanigans continues when Rick manages to run into trouble with the Council of Ricks at the Citadel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why have One When You can have Seven?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this down on paper! Ever since Pocket Mortys came out I've been thinking about this idea. Hope you all enjoy the garbage that is criminal-yet-oddly-domestic Stanchez raising an army of Mortys!

It had started as just an ordinary tuesday night. Granted, most people wouldn't consider carefully watching hundreds of tubes of boiling pink liquid for your boyfriend a normal evening, but for Stan it had sadly become the norm. In fact he didn't even seemed too concerned anymore that said boyfriend was traveling through different dimensions and into alien worlds. For Stan over the past few years, through now numerous weird adventures, this was just the way things were when being with Rick Sanchez.

But usually he came back through the portals alone and not with a pair of identical kids who shared an eerie resemblance to Rick.

"Rick? Who the heck are they?"

Rick seemed confused at first, quickly pushing the two kids towards Stan. "Oh, these guys? Well this is a Rainbow Morty and this is a Hippie Morty. They're my grandsons from alternate dimensions."

"Um thats... Nice? But why-"

Before Stan could get an answer, Rick was shooting off another portal and making a mad dash towards it. "Make sure they don't break anything! I'll be right back! Gotta go get some more!"

Suddenly alone with the two nervous kids, an awkward silence began to form.

"So... You two know anything about cooking space meth?"

~~~

Stan was pretty proud of himself. He'd managed to use his people skills and learn a bit more about the two. But part of him now wished he hadn't. Poor kids...

Despite the happy grin the Rainbow kid wore, he'd speak in cryptic messages about rising moons and suns. When he was coherent though, he did mention really liking puzzles and looked pleased when Stan gave him one of the sudoku books and a word-jumblers lying around the apartment half-finished. Things seemed to be going ok until Stan pried a little too far. The kid got this haunted look when he brought up a bunch of Ghost Mortys that he use to be on a team with.

And the tree-hugging kid didn't have it any better. Apparently he was actually some sort of fusion of two other Mortys that didn't fully work. Sometimes his mind would try and violently split back into the two separate entities. But he said it terrified him even more when his thoughts would finally meld into one and he'd forget temporarily who he use to be.

Stan tried his best to distract them in tiny ways and get them to smile. But he, of all people, knew that there was some bad stuff no one could really just shake off... However all in all, he'd managed to get both kids to relax some and put a little trust in him so Stan considered it a success in his own right. He still didn't know why they were here but Stan felt like maybe he could get use to having two more faces around the apartment. This could probably work!

That was, until Rick stepped back into the house with another two distressed Mortys. One dressed in some weird alien-military uniform while the other wore a leather jacket that vaguely reminded Stan of his biker past.

"What? How many do you plan on getting?" Stan was barely able to sputter out words before Rick was taking off again. "Wait! Rick, No more!"

He could hear him laugh as he dove back through the portal. Asshole.

~~~

It was almost embarrassing how easily the four Mortys wormed their way into his heart. They barely even had to do anything, heck the Greaser kid practically fell asleep as soon as he got there!

In fact now they were all passed out, forming a dog pile on the one bed in the house. As cute as can be of course. Stan felt like he was probably getting cavities.

"Goddammit..." He couldn't help but mutter as he took a swing of cheap whisky. These kids didn't deserve all the misfortune they'd been given. And they deserved better then whatever Rick thought they could provide them. Stan could already feel a mess of questions storm through his head, only slightly numbed by the drink.

Where were they all going to sleep? Hell, what where they all going to eat? Cause Rick's diet of booze and the occasional can brown meat didn't sound ideal for a group of growing kids. And how would people react to seeing them now with four identical kids? Sure he could try and say they were quadruplets or something but that still wouldn't help explain where they came from. Would they need to go to school?

Whatever happened now, Stan knew it was too late for him to gather the courage to kick them out. He was already attached. And he wasn't about to let these kids, these complete strangers to this dimension, try and fend for themselves. But would living in a toilet with him and Rick be any better?

He sighed, twirling the last drips of liquid around. "Goddammit, I shouldn't of drank whisky... I can't protect them."

~~~

When he went back to check on the drugs, Rick was there with a yet another Morty. This one had a more feminine appearance with long hair pulled back. They also seemed incredibly exhausted, swaying while they tried to stay awake. Stan quickly guided her towards the couch but grabbed Rick's hand before he could portal away.

"Rick!" He hissed, trying not to wake up any of the Mortys in the house. "Where are all these kids even coming from!"

"Everyone at the Citadel is getting into this fight club thing? I don't really know what it is but they're practically giving all these Mortys away so I though 'Hey! Why not get some free labor out of this!' Plus I knew you'd like a few of them."

"What. the. hell. Rick! Are they all gonna stay here?"

"Yep!"

"But we can barely take care of ourselves!"

Rick seemed to ignore Stan's worries, and instead handed him a giant pink egg. "Hold that thought, I still got one more Morty to get."

"Rick? No!"

"Don't drop the egg and get it somewhere warm. I'll be right back."

"Rick!" Stan warned, "Don't you dare!"

But he was already gone. Again.

Peering deeply into the egg, he could see the fuzzy shape of a baby curled up near the center. One of its tiny fists reached out and it looked directly at Stan with big innocent eyes.

He sighed, setting the thing carefully onto a pillow. "What the hell has my life even become?"

~~~

"Ok, there's just one more."

"No Rick!"

"Oh come on Stan! We're, we're giving them a better life!"

"We're making space meth in the other room!"

"Stan listen-"

"No! No more Mortys! We can't afford to feed a bazillion more people, Rick!"

"No, Stan it's ok. He doesn't need that much food."

Stan ran both hands irritatedly through his hair. "Look Rick, I wanna help out as many of these kids as you do but we literally can't afford to take care of anymore Mortys. How are we even gonna take care of the kids we have now!"

"Don't worry about it, Stan. This is the last one." A quiet 'for now' was muttered under his breath but Stan decided to ignore it.

Sighing, Stan felt himself cave in, "Ok fine, as long as he's the last one." It dawned on him a little too late that Rick had jumped back through the portal alone. "Wait, so where is he?"

"Right here!" Rick announced, reaching into his pocket and carefully bringing out a tiny figure and cupping his hands around it. In his hands was an itty-bitty little Morty the resembled a kids toy more then it did a living sentient person. But when Stan looked closer, he could see the kid blink and even the barely-macroscopic rise and fall of his chest.

"... Holy shit that's adorable."


	2. Wake Up and Smell the Stress!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the thrilling, action-packed story continues with Stan and the Mortys... Waking up and eating breakfast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Probably should of mentioned this in the first chapter, but better now then never I guess. So the set-up for Earth dimension G-421 is a sort of young Stanchez modern-ish au, where for now they're living on the west coast of Florida doing all the wonderful drug-making and thievery stuff we always seem to associate with Stan and Rick. Why Florida? Cause Rick and Stan would totally be in those crazy internet stories that always start with "Florida Man..." And you can't tell me otherwise!
> 
> Sorry for any major grammar mistakes and what-not. Also sorry for this suddenly going from a bunch of snippets to a large continuing story. I don't know what I'm doing.

Waking up the next morning, Stan thought of another great question to add to his list from last night. The one he started when Rick decided they could totally take care of seven other people. Where were they all going to sleep? Cause he was not going to spend another night on the floor, not if his back had any say.

Stan winced as he got up from the ground, his lower back screamed in protest. Yep, he definently was not gonna do that a second night in a row. Granted, it had been slightly better to be sleeping next to his boyfriend. But waking up alone again just made everything seem more bleak and ridiculous then Rick tried to make it out to be last night.

How did he expect them to support seven kids? Seriously! Sure they'd make some decent profit off the space meth but that money could only stretch so far. How did Rick think this could possibly end well?

In fact where was Rick now?

He was still nowhere to be seen but there was a small note left on the table next to the rows of viles.

_Yo Stan!_  
_I got up early. Got a business deal for some of the firearm prototypes with this guy from Crypto dimension L-731. I'll be back later today._  
_Get all the Mortys to help you take care of the goods that way we can get it all shipped out ahead of schedule for once._  
_-Rick_

Somehow, Stan had expected that. He took some relief in the fact that Rick would be able to make some extra money along with all the drugs. And all the tubes now had hardened pink crystals in them, ready to be broken and ground into powder, then snorted up or swallowed by some crazy party goers out in the clubs. And the quicker everything was packaged and ready to be sold, the quicker money would flow back into the house.

They might as well get it taken care of in the morning. If only to ease some of Stan's anxiety over all their money problems. Still the only one awake, Stan began his walk through the house waking up everyone as quickly as possible.

First up was the Morty sleeping on the couch. "Hey! Rise and shine sweetie!" He nudged her shoulder and quickly walked to the other room, not waiting for a response.

Likewise in the next room he went over to the pile of Mortys and quickly woke them up. "Hey you guys! Time to get up! I'm gonna be in the kitchen trying to figure out breakfast." As he walked out, he couldn't help but smile a little at the collection of groans and whines coming from behind.

Finally he walked over Mini Morty who was sleeping in a small box over by a lamp. "Mornin' kid!" He yelled while knocking on the table-top. "Rise and shine!"

The poor thing struggled out of the box and clutched at his chest, "Oh shit! Sorry sorry sorry! Was that too loud?"

Looking up, the Morty had a terrified look on his face and nodded quickly. Stan felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach.

"Crap... Look I really sorry about that. And, and I promise I won't wake you up like that ever again. Ok?"

The tiny Morty looked up and nodded but still seemed very jittery.

Slowly, trying not to spook the poor kid, Stan offered his hand down to the little Morty. "Here, I'll get you over to the kitchen and we can figure out what to do for breakfast. That sound ok?"

Morty looked over the cliff-like edge of the table before timidly stepping onto his hand. He gripped onto Stan's thumb for support as they made their way from one side of the house to the kitchen.

Just as he expected, most of the cabinets were disappointingly bare. At least they did have a few boxes of cereal left. That'd work for the regular sized kids, but what about the tiny one?

Stan suddenly got an idea. Putting Mini Morty on the counter, Stan went and rinsed out an old bottle cap. Then went on to crush up a few flakes of cereal and carefully poured milk on top with one of the many droppers Rick had left around the room. It was probably still a wickedly large portion for the tiny kid, not to mention no kind of spoon, but it would have to do for now. Stan was only improvising on the spot after all.

That took care of one of the two really weird Mortys, but what about the egg? Do eggs even need food? He went back to where he left it only to find Morticia was still curled up on the couch. That's weird, she was able to sleep through all the racket Stan had been making?

As he went over to try waking up the girl again, three of the Mortys stumbled into the room half-asleep. Only three though.

"Wait, I thought there were four of you in there."

Hippie Morty answered shyly. "Oh, yeah. Uhhh that one Greaser kid is still out I think. But-"

"Well if one of you could get her up while I take care of the other kid, that'd be great." Stan said tiredly, ignoring the few protests he got from the Mortys. They had a lot to do today and he'd rather have more hands on deck then less.

Making as much noise as humanly possible, Stan stepped into the room and spotted the last Morty, the greaser one. He was still completely passed out and his previously slicked-back hair was now a floofy mess covering his face. From the doorway Stan banged loudly on the wall. "Hey Morty! Up and at'em!"

To his surprise Morty showed no reaction, he didn't even move or mumble in his sleep. In fact, now that Stan got a good look at him he realized how still the kid seemed. He began nudging and pushing Morty. "Hey kid, time to get up!"

But he still got no response. Worry only continued to rise up in him. Stan could see a steady rise and fall of Greaser Morty's chest. He also checked and found a calm pulse along his neck. But why wasn't he responding? Carefully pulling back an eyelid, he could see the poor Morty's eyes were glazed over in a trance-like state.

"Dammit! Come on Morty! Wh-what's happening?"

"He's dazed," The Guard Morty answered from the door. "Same with the Morticia. They must of been put in some bad fights just before they got here, I know that Greaser Morty was. Do you have any halzingers?"

Seeing the utterly confused look on Stan's face, the kid sighed and stiffly walked into the room. "While out battling, Ricks and trainers usually keep a bunch of halzingers on them to revive any of their Mortys when they get too hurt. Does your Rick have any? They look like blue cubes or pink balls?"

Stan scanned over the room. "Errrr, not that I know of. He did bring this pink egg back though."

The Morty simply sighed again and went to march back out. "Well then there's not much we can do for either of them. The only other way to heal a Morty when their dazed is to send them to a health center at the Citadel. And seeing as you don't have access to any portal guns..."

"They're just stuck like this?"

"Um yeah, I guess." The Morty added, unsure what to say. "I think with enough time Mortys are supposed to eventually come out of a daze but it can just take a while..."

"Hopefully they can hang on long enough, until Rick comes back." Stan muttered, moving the dazed Morty's bangs fully off his face. He'd been knocked out in bar fights and boxing matches before, but never anything like this. It was like the kid was in a coma. "But they both seemed ok last night. I'm mean, I just assumed they were tired."

Morty, stepped back over to Stan as if trying to approach an alien. "Yeah it's usually like that. Right after loosing, a dazed Morty can still walk around for a little bit. Umm but once they lie down, they usually end up staying down."

"Damn, That's gotta suck..." Stan muttered, still trying to picture how hard the two Mortys had to of been hit to be out for this long. "Well, then I guess there's not much we can do now. I say we move the other Morty in here to just so she's out of the way too then get down to work. Ok?"

"Um, ok." The Guard Morty agreed, following Stan out of the room. "What exactly are we doing?"

"Well," Stan began, "Now that all the stuff in these tubes crystalized, we're gonna have to scrape out everything and grind it into a power. Then we have to measure all the powder out and get it bagged."

"Sounds simple enough. Though, there are a lot of viles..." Morty added, gazing at the rows upon rows laid out on the table, not to mention all the extra viles that had to be placed on the kitchen counters. The Mortys had to carefully to work around them all while getting themselves food.

"I think that's actually why Rick brought you guys in. One of the reasons at least. Cause when it's just Rick and me taking care of these it could take us days to get everything packaged."

Guard Morty had no response, but Stan saw the deep frown settle on his face and the other Mortys suddenly got these hurt, dejected looks too. Dammit, they probably felt terrible after hearing that!

Stan quickly tried to make things sound better. "But hopefully if all of us work together, we can get this done in like two or three hours tops. And hey! Afterwards, maybe I can show you guys around. Some parts of the city are real neat. Granted they're usually a lot more fun when you got money, but there's some decent sight-seeing around here too."

"That sounds nice actually!" Hippie Morty piped up in between bites of cereal. Rainbow Morty nodded in agreement.

But the frown stayed on Guard Morty's face, "Wait, where are we exactly?"

"Oh yeah, we're in... what was it?" Stan tried to remember the dimension coordinates Rick had told him before. Why did they all have to be confusing numbers and codes? "Uhh, I think it's Earth dimension G-421? Yeah I'm pretty sure that's it."

Morty muttered to himself, "Thought so, that'd explain the age difference..."

"What difference?"

"Nothing!" The Guard Morty said quickly, "I'm just thinking out loud. S-so are we gonna get on with this or what?"

"Yeah, as soon as you kids are all done with your breakfast." Stan mentioned, "I should go call Rick about halzingers before we get started too."

 


	3. Family-fun Activities like Packaging Meth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than expected. I had to keep rewriting the chapter until it worked better and this was what I ended up with. And sorry for any grammar mistakes I missed. 
> 
> When will Rick return from the war? Hopefully by the next chapter!

Working together, the five of them fell into a steady pattern. Rainbow Morty would scrape the crystals out of the tubes while Stan and Guard Morty would crush them down with mortars and pestles. Then once they were a fine powder, Hippie and Mini Morty would put the stuff on scales, nearly measuring down to individual grains of powder before sliding them into little plastic bags. It was tedious work but luckily Rick had been right, having extra hands did make things go quicker.

Despite how painfully dull this work could be Stan found himself smiling slightly. When the space meth was in a crystal form like this they always reminded him of the rock candy sold out on the docks back home. As kids, whenever they found spare change while treasure hunting he and his brother, Ford, would get them. They practically became a staple of their diet during the summer when they spent all their time at the beach, whether exploring caves or trying to repair the Stan'o'War...

Stan almost let himself fall completely into his memories when he heard a heavy sigh coming from Hippie Morty by the scales. It quickly dawned on him how quiet it was for the rest of the room. It was that tense, awkward silence where Stan felt almost compelled to make noise but just couldn't bring himself to try and make small talk. Maybe he could turn on a radio or something? What kind of music did these kids even like cause Stan had a strong feeling that it wasn't the oldies station he always preferred. Luckily, Hippie Morty got fed up with the silence before Stan.

"So umm Stan, how did you end up with your Rick?"

Kinda personal, but Stan would take it. "Well, we were apart of the same heist a few years ago. One of the craziest I've ever been in on actually. Didn't go to well, lots of people ended up in prison. Luckily Rick and I made it out and we ended up living on the road for a while. And yeah, I guess we've been together ever since."

Hippie Morty hummed in reply. Obviously Stan gave them the super short, censored version of the story, but if he caught on the Morty didn't show it. Seeing that the kids were willing to talk, Stan took it as a cue to ask the question that'd been in his head ever since last night.

"Ok, so how do you kids get into the fighting business?"

As soon as he said the words all the Mortys somehow managed to act even more awkward and tense.

"Cause no offense but none of you look like much of the fighting types. If you guys want actually, I could give you some pointers and stuff. Just name a type of fight, I've probably been in it! Boxing's usually my go to though-

"None of us wanted to fight." Guard Morty said through clenched teeth. "We were all forced to, or we would be ditched out in the wild and caught by some other Ricks."

"What?" Stan felt a knot form in his stomach.

"Yeah, I hated being in fights." Hippie Morty added shuddering. "I had to go up against some Morty made out of Fire once, I got these really bad burns afterwards."

What was Rick getting them into? Stan felt himself start to see red. "Did, did my Rick make any of you kids fight?"

"No, no!" Hippie Morty hurried to add. "He made a deal with us. If we helped him out with stuff like- well, this" He said, gesturing to the mounds of powder. "Then he said he'd give us a place to stay and we wouldn't have to battle if he could help it."

"Didn't stop some other Ricks from showing up and making us all fight his Mortys before we could leave." Rainbow Morty hissed under his breath.

Hippie Morty elaborated when he saw Stan glare at the door. "When he picked us up, we were about to go when this old Rick and his gang of Mortys showed up and wouldn't let us leave until we fought his team. He didn't have a choice on that one."

"Man, Ricks can be so weird." Stan muttered, crystals turning to powder almost instantly now in his mortar. "But... That must say a lot about you two if you were able to fend off a whole gang of other Mortys."

Rainbow and Hippie Morty smiled slightly at the small praise. But the Guard Morty continued to scowl. "Yeah, Ricks are the worst."

"But why are they making you kids fight? Why Mortys of all people?" The four only shrugged in response to that one. No one knew for sure.

After that things got quiet again. This time though Stan forced himself to get up and put on the radio, not caring really what station it fell on. And they all continued the boring work. Soon all the crystals were taken out of the tubes and Rainbow Morty joined Stan and the Guard in crushing everything. And soon after that all the crystals were ground down to powder and then everyone was just measuring out the dust and bagging it.

"Bam." Stan said after zipping the last plastic bag shut and falling back into his chair dramatically. "We're done!"

"Yay." Hippie Morty said weakly. A few of the other Morty looked up slightly before letting their heads hit the hard wood table again.

"So, you guys still up to go touring the town?"

~~~

Roughly a ten minute drive later, the Mortys found themselves walking across a bridge and gazing out at the expansive ocean view. Despite the beach-front looking like summer, there was a late-winter chill still in the air forcing them all to bring along what coats they had laying about the apartment.

When he was sure no one else was near them besides the few cars speeding past, Stan carefully pulled Mini Morty out of his pocket so he could see too. He smiled at the sight and carefully jumped out of Stan's hand onto the concrete border walking along side the others.

"Pretty nice view huh?"

Hippie Morty agreed and Guard Morty replied "Sure." rather mechanically. Rainbow Morty's gaze was transfixed on the horizon and he kept stumbling while trying to walk.

"Yeah, I always like living close to the water. Not to sure why, it just makes me feel at home I guess..."

On the other side of the bridge sat dozens of shops squished together as close as they could get to the shore without completely toppling into the sea. Even while still far away, the obnoxious mix of pinks, oranges and blues could be seen practically radiating from the place. Stan scooped Mini Morty off the border and put him back in his pocket as they got closer. One sign along the bridge advertised the place as "The ShoreFront".

"This is the really touristy part of town." Stan announced gesturing to the hodgepodge of restaurants, hotels and boutiques competing for space. "At first I thought it could be fun to try and put in a tourist trap or something but these folks are super cut-throat. Plus, since it's all waterfront property everything was really expensive around here too."

As they walked along the street they'd have to skirt around palm trees planted directly into the sidewalks and occasionally the concrete would be replaced by tile mosaics of fish and tidal waves and that sort of junk. "They definitely like their beach aesthetic here."

Guard Morty looked suspiciously over all the vibrantly painted windows of one store. "If it's such a tourist-centered place, why are there barely any people here?" Besides them, there were very few other people out on the streets, a tour group or two here and there but that was about it.

"Eh give it a couple weeks." Stan said shrugging. "When the next holiday comes up this place is gonna become a total nightmare. It'll be impossible to get in and out of here." Stan shuddered at the thought, there were many reasons why he a Rick lived more inland but one of the biggest was to avoid the overcrowding caused by crazy tourists who would travel everywhere like a hoard of zombies. Sure they usually had a lot of money Stan or Rick could swipe but they both, especially Rick, had their limits with how long they could stand being near the mobs of dumb people, no matter how rich and easily distracted they were.

Speaking of rich and easily distracted, Stan saw a group of victims perfect for some minor pickpocketing coming up. It was a bickering family. Originally they probably had high hopes for this trip, Stan didn't doubt, but from the persisting cold and their whining kids things must of taken a turn for the worst. And now here they were going from store to store trying to find something to do. As they got closer he could hear the husband and wife fighting in that annoying passive aggressive way while ignoring their crying children.

"Well if someone hadn't booked the tickets for the middle of freaking winter-"

"And if some people remembered to pack jackets and actually think ahead for once-"

"Oops!" Stan said while, shoving Guard Morty directly into the family and knocking them down. He hurried over to help the wife up. "I am so sorry, Timmy here can be so clumsy! Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." The lady said coolly slapping Stan's hand away and glaring daggers at Guard Morty. "Your son should watch where he's going."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." The husband said, accepting Stan's hand. As he looked up at the Mortys his eyes lit up. "Hey, are you guys triplets?"

Before any of them could answer Stan interjected, "Yep! These are my boys, Jimmy, Sterling and Casey!"

"I thought he was called Timmy." The wife said accusingly.

"Jimmy, Timmy same thing." Stan said waving a hand. "Darn kid always keeps changing the first consonant."

The lady looked skeptical but her husband grabbed her hand and they ushered their kids away. "Well, hope you guys have a nice day and appreciate just being somewhere new... Unlike some people-"

Guard Morty waited until the family was gone before punching Stan in the arm repeatedly, "What the hell Stan?! Wh-What was that for?"

"To pay for lunch." Stan replied nonchalantly and pulled the man's wallet out his sleeve with a smug grin. "You guys have any ideas of where you'd like to go?"


	4. You Can't Run from a Trainer Battle, Asshole!

The "transaction" went smoothly, much better then Rick had hoped actually. Now several illegal firearms lighter but several halzingers heavier, he made his way back out of the town and into the woods. Where he could portal away without much suspicion from the townsfolk. Never hurt to be careful in these weird, out of the way dimensions. Especially one like Crypto dimension L-731 where the people considered churning dirt-flavored butter as a reasonable career for life and used goats as a form of currency.

Despite the weird people though, their dimension was rather pretty. It was night here and all the trees towering above him were lighting his path with a purple glow. As he walked along a path, small blue lightning bugs would flitter past. Stan would probably think this place was pretty, Rick thought, probably want to scam that whole town of idiots too. 

Looking around at the glowing purples and blues, Ricks eyes were quickly drawn to a weak neon pink that didn't seem to belong to this dimension. Down near the base of one tree there was some sort or pile of goop giving off the soft glow. As he got closer, he realized it wasn't just slime but there was a thing floating around inside. It wasn't fully formed, but Rick could recognized it's tufts of poofy brown hair and dumb little face. 

"Seriously? Fucking Morty's everywhere!" He nudged it a little with his boot but the thing wasn't responding. Must be dazed, Stan had told him about that over the phone. He was gonna just leave it there, but to be honest it probably wouldn't make it through the night like this. It's pink glow almost clashed with the monochrome purple woods, it'd be seen and attacked by animals before it even knew what happened. Might as well give it a fighting chance. At least, that's what Rick was telling himself as he gave one of his recently acquired halzingers to the Morty.

Almost instantly the thing burst back to life, glowing even more strongly, and flew up into Rick's face. When looking directly at Rick, he could see tiny scars on the thing's head where a manipulator chip use to be. It seemed to be expecting something and just floated there in Rick's face waiting. 

"What? Your welcome." 

With that, Rick turned to head back to his own dimension. But as he went to calibrate his portal gun he felt a chill run up his spine. He turned around and saw the thing floating directly behind him, looking up at Rick with big, excited eyes. 

"Y-you gotta be kidding me... Go away!" As he stepped back, the squishy, floating Morty followed just as quickly, he could almost see the thing's half-formed mouth attempting to smile. "No, don't look at me like that!"

Rick wondered if he could try to make a run for it, this Morty would probably be able to follow though. It was no use really. Instead, he sighed in defeat, "... You don't have to eat much, right?"

The thing made this squeaking noise and bobbed up and down, still trying to smile.

No going back now. Looks like Stan would just have to deal with it, Rick rationalized. Not like one more tiny little Morty would break their budget. And he could be useful... Maybe?... Actually no, who was he kidding, it was a gooey, armless, fetus. But maybe he could use him as a glowstick or something?

"Hey, hey you! Got any Mortys?" Rick spun around when he heard his own voice yelling at him far too close for comfort. Well, it sounded like him but like a bajillion years older and super wasted. An Old Rick was quickly making his way towards him. He had a whole group of Mortys following him nervously, they seemed really powerful too. Crap. He hadn't thought this dimension would be overrun with Trainer Ricks yet.

"Nope." Rick hated running into these guys whenever he went out into the multiverse. They would wait around the main roads and demand you fight them. Apparently they didn't have anything better to do in their spare time. "I'm not here for this M-Morty crap."

"Bullshit. You have a Test X1 Morty right there! How-How 'bout we fight on 520 schmeckles?"

"How 'bout you go fuck yourself." Rick had to get out of here fast, these types of Ricks would never take no for an answer. He turned his back on the group and began programming coordinates into his portal gun.

"You aren't gonna last out here if you don't get your Mortys to fight, kid!" The Old Rick shouted. "Your Mortys are gonna be too weak and you'll n-never-"

"Don't care!" He called over his shoulder. If the Old Rick said anything else it fell onto deaf ears as Rick dove through a portal with Test X1 Morty still following close behind.

~~~

After having a nice lunch from a food truck out near the docks, (and Stan made a slight detour to drop the wallet inconspicuously back onto the street for that bickering couple to find later) Stan and the herd of Mortys drove back towards the mainland.   


Hippie Morty was mumbling to himself the whole way back. Earlier when he ordered a hot dog from the truck he went to ask for mustard but quickly stopped himself. He'd been acting like this ever since. Stan couldn't pick out any specific words, but it would quickly go from aggressive to saddened then back again.

Nervously, Stan tried to catch the kid's attention, "Heeeyyy Morty... You doing ok?"

When Hippie Morty looked up, there was a delirious glare that seemed out of place on the normally mellow kid. "We're fine." He said prickly. For a moment he looked regretful but then his face quickly morphed back into a scowl and went back to quietly arguing with himself.

Oh yeah, the whole combination malfunction. For the most part Hippie Morty would seem ok, the two Mortys were able to agree on most things and keep a steady persona... but when they did come across something they disagreed on, even if it was small stuff like choosing wether or not to get mustard on a hot dog, it was almost painful to watch. Poor kid was just fighting with himself, or would it be himselves? Either way Stan made a mental reminder to figure out a way to help the Morty if he could. He knew he probably couldn't unfuse them or whatever but there had to be something he could do, right? 

When their apartment complex came in sight Stan felt relieved. While he enjoyed going out and about he felt much better in his own domain, especially with the knowledge that thousands of dollars worth of drugs were hidden somewhere in their room while they were out. He also hoped that Rick would be back with the money and halzingers by now. He hated having to leave Greaser Morty and Morticia home alone and out cold. And maybe Rick might already have some ideas on what to do for the combined Hippie Morty.

Sure enough as Stan and the gang of Mortys came in, there was Rick with the now very awake Mortys hanging out on the couch watching interdimensional cable. But while he was relieved to see them, he couldn't pass over the fact that there was another pink, squishy Morty with them and it wasn't Egg Morty.

"Seriously Rick?"

Rick of course looked up, faking ignorance. "What?"

"I thought we said no more Mortys!"

"... Don't know what your talking about."

"Are you kidding- he's right there!" Test X1 Morty looked up at Stan from it's terrible hiding-place leaning up on Rick's head and shoulders.

"This l-little guy?" Rick asked innocently, as he pet the squishy Morty. "Could-couldn't stop him, he just followed me allllll the way home. And I, I couldn't get him to go away." 

Stan crossed his arms "Whatever, but this is the last one. I fucking swear, I'll kick the next Morty you sneak in here back into the wild."

"No you won't."

"Just don't bring anymore Mortys back, ok? I thought we already agreed on this!"

"Yeah, sure." Rick scootched over on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. "Let's just watch some Ball Fondlers or something."

"Fine, but don't expect me to just-"

Two hours later Stan was still sitting in the middle of the couch surrounded by Rick and all their Mortys at varying levels of unconsciousness. At some point during the marathon Egg Morty found its way into his lap and that small squishy X1 Morty fell asleep on his shoulder. He felt a cold wetness where it lay and he couldn't tell if the thing was drooling on him or if it was just slime. Gross. Rick was half-asleep and stubbornly on top of his arm and on his other side two Mortys were doing the same. He couldn't even move his legs cause Hippie Morty and Greaser Morty were leaning up against them in his sleep. He was completely trapped.

Stan probably would of felt more claustrophobic if he wasn't so tired himself. That and the fact most these kids barely weighed anything. If Stan closed his eyes, it felt more like he just had piles of pillows around him then actual teenagers with body mass. They should probably eat more, Rick especially. The fact that he felt about the same weight as the kids did spark some concern in Stan's foggy mind. But for now, he just put it as another thing to worry about on his growing list. Hopefully with all the goods ready to go food would be one less thing to worry about for a while. 

Tonight they could head over to the night-life parts of town and make their deals, maybe even party a little themselves once all the finances were taken care of. Then once all the pantries were restocked, they could worry about getting bedding and necessities for all these kids. Cause while Stan had to admit these dog piles could be nice, there was only so much of being surrounded by lots of people in super-close proximity his claustrophobia could allow. Plus he was sure these Mortys would appreciate having their own personal places to sleep that wasn't the floor.

They still had several hours till it'd be a good time to leave to meetup for their deals so Stan let himself relax more as his thoughts drifted off. Yeah, things would probably be ok. Money would be coming soon enough and they'll be able to figure things out better then. He could get Rick and all those Mortys to eat better, they'll sleep in beds, it wouldn't be luxurious but it would be livable. And that's all Stan could really let himself want for now.


	5. That Part in like Every Fic Where Things Start to go Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, another chapter done! Again, sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I usually try to fix them whenever I can.
> 
> I'd also like to thank all the folks commenting and leaving kudos on my story! I'm glad you all enjoy it so far and I hope you continue to enjoy the upcoming chapters. I really do appreciate it!

_You're in a dark, rocky dimension where it's raining. It's slippery and you try to maintain firm footing as you run. The water slightly burns but you ignore it. You have to. Just run. Don't stop running. If you stop running, you're done. If you trip and fall, you're done. No Other Mortys, no other Ricks will stop for you if you fall behind. Not even your original Rick._

_The only thing your can count on your Rick for is orders. You can't be dependent on Rick, that's what gives dumb little Guard Mortys such a high body count out on the field. They freak out and go to their Rick for help. And they get shot, or stabbed, or eaten before they can take another step. Don't loose control. Don't take your eyes off the enemy. Don't go sniveling to Rick._

_Just keep running. And pray that you don't snag your uniform on anything. The rain gets heavier now. The constant water stinging your face nearly blinds you. And you can't help but take a hand off your gun to shield your eyes._

_Bad choice._

_When a monstrous zorbgorg emerges from behind a giant boulder, it's full on charging at you. Acting on reflex, you try to shoot at it with one hand. Your shoulder is thrown back painfully by the blast and the laser does nothing to still the monster. It only makes it more furious. The monster leaps and towers high above you. And it's mouth opens inches from your face. You see thousands of teeth reaching back all the way to the zorbgorg's throat._

_You failed._

~~~

Guard Morty woke up in a panic. He clutched at his chest and forced himself not to scream. Can't wake the others up, they'd be so pissed to wake up at this god-forsaken hour. Instead he got off the bed, careful not to jostle any of the sleeping Mortys, and crept out of the room. Despite the quiet calm that filled the apartment, Guard Morty's heart pounded at a feverish rate and his breaths came out like a sputtering engine.

"S-s-stop freaking out! It was, it was just a bad dream!" He tried ordering quietly to himself. More like wheezing than whispering. But his demands fell silent to his still rapid heart beat and chaotic breathing.

Finally in defeat, he fell to the ground and curled up in a ball. Pathetic. He hated acting like this. He felt like such a child. And he was so terrified that someone might wake up and see him. He'd never hear the end of it then.

As much as he resented curling up like this though it worked better then any other tactic he'd tried for calming down. Tightly hugging his legs to his chest made him feel safe. He knew he looked ridiculous and that this would be so illogical to do out fighting in the field. But regardless of reason, his body only really responded to this. As he hugged himself, his breathing slowed down, regaining a steady pace and the panicked mess of thoughts going through his head gratefully stilled.

After a few more minutes, he crawled off the floor and made his way to the kitchen. He could go get a glass of water or something then go back to bed. And no one would be the wiser to his embarrassing nightmares and even more embarrassing way of coping.

Turned out, he would get no such luck. When he got to the kitchen, all the lights were on and there was Rainbow Morty, sitting on the counter sipping a tea. He looked up at Guard Morty expectedly.

"You ok?" He asked, it was the most coherent he'd ever heard the kid. "We could hear you crying out in the hallway."

"I wasn't crying." Guard Morty said quickly. "I was just getting my breathing back under control."

"Bad dream?"

"Sure, I guess." It was then, he noticed that Egg Morty was propped up on the counter too. Rainbow Morty had even placed a warm cup of tea next to the egg. "It, it wasn't that bad. It didn't even make sense. I mean, Zorbgorgs don't live in rocky terrain like Fyfer Dimension X-200."

"They don't?" Rainbow Morty asked, talking more to himself again, like he usually did. "Many things are falling and fleeing into worlds they ought not to be in... mixing together in a big mess, a grand Weirdmageddon."

"What are you even- Ok whatever, I'm just gonna go back to bed." There was only so much of Rainbow Mortys cryptic nonsense he could take. He backed out the door and hoped the other Morty wouldn't tell the others about him freaking out.

"If it makes you feel better I had a nightmare too." Rainbow Morty said more panicked then before, "uhhh, Perhaps I should tell you about mine, I-I'm still freaking out about it..."

Feeling trapped, he stepped back into the room and sat at the table, as far away as he could get from the Morty without it looking purposeful. "Fine. What happened."

"Well, I-I, I was seeing the sun and moon rise and fall as usual. When suddenly I was back in the Citadel. These Councilor Ricks were waiting for a battle and looking at this long list of all the known Ricks in the multiverse. When they got to our new Rick's file they, they were frowning. I couldn't hear what they said but they summoned a whole bunch of guards and gave them all the information on our Rick..."

"What?"

"I-I think Rick might be in danger!"

"Aw jeez..." Guard Morty grumbled. "Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?"

"I know it wasn't! We, we gotta go find Rick and warn him!"

"If your freaking out about this, why didn't you just go and find him on your own?" Even in dire situations Guard Morty's trust came with firm limits.

"Uh, Egg Morty said we should wait for you to wake up..."

"Wait, the egg told you?"

"Yes! And he said he remembered where they went too!"

"... The egg told you." What little understanding Guard Morty's had for the other was quickly dying again.

"Please Mo-Morty! There isn't much time!" Rainbow Morty pleaded. While rambling, he'd grabbed the Egg Morty and started petting it. It scared Guard Morty how fully conscious he sounded. He was even making eye-contact. Yet he was still talking utter nonsense.

Guard Morty knew if he said no, the other would probably go regardless. Might as well tag along and make sure the crazy Morty didn't hurt himself. It wasn't like he was tired now anyways. "Ok Morty. Let me just change really quick then we can go."

The Morty smiled in relief and shrugged on a jacket. "Thank you for believing me!"

"I just hope Rick and Stan don't get too pissed off when we find them. Wha-what are you doing?"

Rainbow Morty was winding a scarf all around the Egg Morty. "He's coming too! He-He's the only one that knows the way!"

If Guard Morty ever went completely bonkers, he decided he would point to this night as the starting point to his downfall.

~~~

"God Stan, would you stop fawning over the fucking money!"

Stan cackled, flipping through the bundle with wide eyes. "Look at it man, look at this stack! It's not even singles. I, I thought for being such a large stack it would be singles but it's not!"

"You're so weird..."

As Rick drove he rolled his eyes at the sight of his boyfriend. He always got like this whenever they got payed, acting like such a miser. Couldn't blame him too hard though, it was a lot of money to suddenly have in your hand when only a day before you were barely living off old cereal and booze.

As they pulled into a parking garage, Rick leaned over and tried to pry Stan's gaze away from the money. "Yo Stan, y-you think that's a lot just, just you wait man. We got one more meet up coming up."

"Nice!" Stan was grinning ear to ear like a little kid. "After tonight we're gonna be so stinking rich!"

"Ugh, whatever com'ere." Rick held Stan's face and pulled him into a quick kiss. "How, how'bout we celebrate after this deal? Just hang around and burn some of this cash up?"  
  
He could feel Stan laugh as he pulled away. "Sounds like a plan, Rick!"

"Then let's do, let's do the thing!" Rick said, parking sloppily and knocking the car door open. "Let's do this thing!"

Stan smiled and pulled the other close to his side as they walked towards the club. "Love the enthusiasm Rick, but don't rip my door off. And you should probably leave the talking to me."

~~~

"Ok, were almost there!" Rainbow Morty called as he hurried across an intersection. The Egg Morty hidden in scarves was in his hands and Guard Morty followed close behind.

"Morty?" He hissed trying not to full-on run like the other. "You really need to stop drawing so much attention to yourself. People might-"

"Wait, what?!" All at once Rainbow Morty stopped midstep and turned around. His eyes suddenly wide with fear and he looked around wildly. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no!"

"What is it?" Guard Morty felt a chill run up his spine when he heard the sudden tale-tell sound of a portal opening not too far behind them.

"Hurry! We, we gotta get outta here now!"

With one hand balancing the Egg Morty, Rainbow Morty grabbed at his hand and ran towards an alleyway.

"Morty! What's going on! How did they-"

Instead of answering, Rainbow Morty yanked the other down to hide behind a dumpster. "Shhh! It's too late. We have to hide!"

"Guard Morty mark HR-7945, factor SD-2334? Show yourself!" Guard Morty cringed, it'd been a long time since anyone's referred to him by his full assigned name. "We know you're in there. We've been tracking your signal throughout this dimension. Show yourself and your other accompanied Mortys or we will forcefully confiscate you ourselves!" The Head Rick demanded.

Peaking out, Guard Morty could see a whole troop of Guard Ricks and their Mortys standing at attention and blocking off the only exit from the alley. They were cornered.

"Come on you two." The look of utter betrayal and terror and Rainbow Morty's face made his insides churn. But he maintained a stoic face and pulled the other to his feet. "Trust me, it's gonna be a lot worse if they have to drag us out."

Flashlights and scanners were pointed into their faces as they walked out towards the line of guards. Squeaking, Guard Morty hugged Egg Morty tightly to his chest like a small kid. Guard Morty only looked forwards, hoping his face had remained unreadable.

"Good choice." The Head Rick said, "So tell me soldier, are you currently under the possession of Earth Rick G-421?"

"Yes." Guard Morty answered.

"Then why aren't any of you fitted with morty manipulator chips?" The Head Rick asked accusingly.

"Didn't need them. We came to a mutual agreement without the need of manipulators."

A few of the Ricks whispered to one another as they compared scan results. The Head Rick grunted when one muttered something and showed him some information on their tablet. "Ok... Does your Rick possess any other Mortys we should know about?"

"No." He said automatically, ignoring the look of surprise Rainbow Morty gave him.

"Keep in mind soldier, lying to your leading officers can lead to dire consequences. Even, even if you're currently not apart of our forces."

"No." Guard Morty repeated, struggling slightly to keep his voice even and robotic. "We are his only Mortys, sir."

"Very well." With that, several of the guards sprang forth and restrained them. Rainbow Morty cried out when they yanked Egg Morty out of his hands and put him in handcuffs. The Head Rick continued as he fired a portal into the alley wall. "As of now, you three are being put temporarily in our custody, while your Rick is arrested and tried."

"F-for what?!" Rainbow Morty asked, shaking like a leaf.

"For lack of respect towards the Council of Ricks and aggressive lack of participation in the Pocket Mortys competition."

Before either Morty could ask anything more, they were dragged out of Earth Dimension G-421. Gone without a single trace.


	6. Don't You Just Hate it When You Arrest Yourself?

Inside the ridiculously loud and overcrowded club Stan and Rick wove through the mobs of high people attempting to dance. Rainbows of lasers shot around the room and strobe lights made Rick feel all disoriented as he stumbled to keep up with Stan. That and the several shots of a mystery green liquid left him uncoordinated but pleasantly light-headed as they made their way back off the dance floor.

He could barely hear Stan shouting over the music despite being only inches away from his face. Rick just assumed he was still flipping out over having two successful business deals in one night. If he were more sober he'd probably tell Stan to stop bragging so much otherwise they might get robbed or beaten. But for now he was happy to follow Stan around as he lead them to wherever.

When they finally got to a small lounging area he collapsed onto a couch, Rick could finally hear what the other was saying. Definitely much more intoxicated then he had assumed before. "- and that would be really neat or whatever, eh what do I know about gardens? Oh shit Rick! What if we got them all bunk beds!?"

"Stan have, have you been been talking about f-fucking home decor this whole time?"

"No, no Rick listen! Me and my bro had'em as kids, they, they're the fucking best man! We could get a whole bunch of bunk beds to save space it would be so fucking awesome man!"

"Oh my god, you are so fucking weird... We can get those kids whatever ya want Stan! What-whatever your fucking little heart desires!"

Stan laughed at that, it was a drunk, booming laugh that rattled the table. Rick found himself laughing to as he leaned onto him and resting his head on Stan's shoulders. In return Stan snaked an arm around his torso and hugged him close to his side. "Don't think I've ever had so much power. Anything I want?"

"Fuck yeah man! You've seen how thick these stacks are!" Rick reached over to pull back out the wads of cash out of Stan's coat jacket. Only instead his hands fell into the wrong pocket and felt a cold sliminess. "The fuck?!"

Panicking, Rick yanked the slime out of Stan's pocket. In his white-knuckled grip was a wriggling, terrified Test X1 Morty. Rick let the Morty go but glared daggers at it. It sunk down close to the table, looking at the ground.

"What? What were you doing in my pocket?" Stan asked, Rick just assumed his surprise was real.

"What the heck Morty! You, you, you're supposed to be at home!"

Test X1 Morty refused to look either in the eye and began to jiggle around like sad jello.

Looking around nervously, Stan reached for Test X1. "We should probably hide you back in my pocket." He said, holding the little guy in his hands, "Don't want any humans freaking out or anything."

Rick waved a hand dismissively as he leaned back onto his shoulder. "Eh, don't worry 'bout it Stan, everyone in here's high as balls anyway. They won't even notice him... But," He began, pointing a finger at the guilty, gooey Morty. "That doesn't mean you get to sneak out again. This is a one time thing you little punk! This ai-ain't no place for a weird little baby mutant-thing like you!"

The Morty looked sad still but nodded anyway, flying over near Stan's other side.

The rest of the night continued on. Rick and Stan stayed over in the lounge, leaned up against each other and talking more in stream-of-conscious then actual conversations. And Test X1 Morty would float around them, occasionally doing laps around the small lounge area. A few people who walked past and stared at the strange Morty, but just like Rick predicted they all just shrugged it off then went on to boast to one another about how they were so high they were actually hallucinating.

Eventually Stan felt himself sobering to a point he felt confident and coordinated enough to drive again and nudged at Rick who was still splayed across his side. "Hey Rick, you wanna call it a night?"

"Fuck no Stan! Just, just give me a few more... hours?"

Stan rolled his eyes as he got up and pulled Rick along with him. "Heh, don't think we even have hours at this point."

"Ugh! Whatever I don't have to take this crap! You go home and play house with all those Mortys we got. All, all what six? Seven? Damn we got a lot of Mortys!"

"Yep! We sure do... That's your fault though, since your the one who keeps bringing back more!" Stan said as he dragged the other towards the exit.

To actually leave the place they'd have to go back out across the dance floor. It was much less crowded then before but it was still a mess of deafening music and flashing lights. Grimacing, Stan braced himself for their trip back through the craziness. While before the atmosphere had been fun and got Stan's adrenalin racing, now hours later it all just reminded him of how exhausted he was and how he was going to have a terrible headache tomorrow. That and he still had a wasted Rick to take care of now.

As for Rick, he was focusing all his willpower into not puking all over his and Stan's feet. When they were sitting down he thought he was fine but when Stan began to walk him out of the club his world began tilting dramatically and his stomach churned. So he just clung onto Stan and tried to find a spot in the room to focus on.

By some miracle, they managed to make it out of the front doors and Rick threw himself away from Stan, stumbling towards some bushes. Test X1 Morty hid behind Stan's unruly hair in disgust while Rick emptied out his stomach.

Stan wrinkled his nose but kept a steady hand on Rick's back. "Geez Rick, what did you drink?"

"Fu-Fuck if I know." Rick muttered while spitting a few more times. "It was all green. Tasted like shit though."

"Whatever man, let's just get you home before you- What the fuck?!"

Weakly, Rick looked up and followed Stan's line of sight. Across the street a portal opened up and a full squad of Guard Ricks stepped out along with several Mortys, all in full white uniforms and carrying stunning weapons. Shit.

"Earth Rick G-421!" Rick urged Stan to run for it when all the guards broke into a sprint. They only made it a few feet before the world came crashing down. Rick heard Stan cry out in pain then fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes, crushing Rick under him. And just as quickly Stan was shoved off of him and he was yanked up and cuffed by several older versions of himself.

"The fuck is going on!" Rick shouted, as he fought against the Ricks restraining him. Despite the old Ricks' boney frail appearance they were surprisingly strong. Rick kinda wished he hadn't puked before so he could do it now. Just to see the look on these old crusty Ricks' faces.

One of the Guard Ricks. The Head Rick stepped forwards and looked Rick straight in the eyes. "Rick: Earth Dimension G-421, you are being detained and must stand before the Council of Ricks for your criminal acts against the Citadel."

"Like what?" Rick asked boldly. He winced as one of his captors dug the barrel of a gun into his back.

"For your utter lack of respect towards the Council."

"Please, nobody actually listens to those asshats." Another jab from someone's gun.

"And for your abuse of and lack of participation in the current Citadel activities."

"So what if I don't want to get in your stupid Mort fight club? F-Fucking sue me."

"Actually the you'll probably be incarcerated." One of the guards said smugly.

The Head Rick smirked at that but continued. "We have your three Mortys in our custody currently. And their fate will be ultimately determined by the results of your trial."

"Wait what!" For a moment, Rick's emotions betrayed him and panic began to set in. "The fuck, what the fuck are you talking about!" Fuck! Which Mortys did they have?

"Your Mortys? The ones you have despite you claiming to not participate in-"

"Wait!" One of the Morty Guards shouted, nudging Stan's still unconscious form with his boot. There was a small tremble coming from the hood of his jacket. The Morty glared coldly at the spot before reaching down with one hand and ripping Test X1 Morty from his hiding place in Stan's hair and jacket. "They were also carrying this Morty. A Test X1, scissor type. No manipulator chip."

"Knew that bastard was lying. Oh well, that's too bad for him." The Head Rick said quietly to himself with no remorse or regret in his voice. He turned back towards Rick. "Now, that makes four Mortys that belong to you. And yet you refuse to participate in the Pocket Morty fights?"

One of the other guard Ricks actually had the nerve to tut him as they fired a portal and the Ricks holding him began dragging him away. "W-wait! You fucks are just gonna leave him there!" Rick shouted, trying to gesture to Stan with his cuffed hands.

"Relax," one of the guard said pulling him back towards the portal. "He'll wake up in a couple of minute... Probably."

"Don't know why you keep that guy around though." Another Rick said, "Stanleys are just so pathetic, especially when they get all old and fat... Like they're completely useless."

While a few other Guards agreed with him, and Rick saw red. "Shut up! You motherfucking-"

Practically growling, Rick was forced through the portal surrounded by the squad of guards before he could finish his threat. The last thing Rick saw before his head was forced down was Stan's crumpled form lying on the ground. And then he was through the portal.

When he looked up again he was at the heart of the Citadel. At least, he was pretty sure it was. The sudden bright change in scenery made Rick's eyes burn and the world was still tilting around every time Rick was forced to take a step. From what he could see through squinted eyes, all sorts of Ricks, mostly old ones, and their Mortys, in teams of four or five, were running all about. It seemed like everyone was either buying crap from stands or waiting in lines to jump through giant portals. For some reason the sight of it all made Rick's stomach churn. Something about this all didn't feel right.

Looking over he saw his own tiny Test X1 Morty looking up at him with eyes so sad they'd probably be brimming with tears if he wasn't inside in a pink fluid membrane. Poor kid. Rick was tempted to try and say something sappy or reassuring but he didn't want to end up lying to the kid.

As it was, the odds were greatly stacked against Rick at the moment. And they didn't show any signs of changing as Rick was pushed away from Test X1 Morty and towards the main doors to the Council Building.

~~~

When Stan came to, his hand went straight to his pocket on reflex. Thank god! All the money was still there!

After that, his mind began to wake up more and he sluggishly pulled himself off the sidewalk and up to his feet. He hissed as a brought his hand to the back of his head. He remembered something hitting him, but he couldn't feel any bumps or bruises forming. Had it been more like a sudden shock?

All at once his memory caught up with the rest of his mind. Ricks! A whole bunch of old Ricks showed up in weird uniforms! He and Rick made a run for it but he must of got stunned or something. And... And... They took Rick and their Test X1 Morty!

"Those bastards..." Stan seethed, sprinting towards the parking garage and looking frantically for his car. He had to go home and get their portal gun right now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Stan save Rick? Will Rick save the captured Mortys? How confused will all the other kids be tomorrow morning? Find out in the next edition of this dumb story coming soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Damn! Why are Ricks such Assholes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh darn! Why am I writing these chapters to be so angsty and painful? Sorry, I promise I'll make things more funny and lighter in the upcoming chapters. But for now, hope you like getting stressed-out and feeling sad cause fictional characters are in distress. 
> 
> Yeah and also sorry for any grammar mistakes, I'll probably see them whenever I read through and change them. But if I don't, don't be afraid to let me know. Honestly, it's like having spinach in your teeth you'd rather have someone let you know early-on instead of having everyone see it and silently judge you!

It was one thing to be sitting in one of the biggest toilets in a known Morty's world: the Morty waiting rooms within the Citadel headquarters. A room where your destiny was simultaneously so unclear yet bleak no matter what life soon faced you. In one moment you could belong to an entirely new Rick, or be sent back to your home dimension all alone or one of the worst fates, to simply be forgotten and left stranded in the citadel. It was one thing to be find yourself sitting there, able to do nothing besides twiddle your thumbs and wait, completely powerless to the radical changes your life may have coming.

However as much as that sucked, it was another thing to find yourself sitting there and have your technically-former Head Officer march in, looking so smug you're tempted to roll your eyes, accompanied by two other Guard Ricks and a mob of Morty Guards, one of which was holding a Test X1 Morty in his grasp. That, was something entirely different and much more painful and humiliating.

Immediately when they barged in Rainbow Morty and Guard Morty were thrown from their bored daze. Rainbow Morty paled at the sight while Guard Morty steeled himself.

"Guard Morty mark HR-7945, factor SD-2334? You told us there were only three of you under Rick earth dimension G-421's custody? Was that correct soldier?"

"Yes sir."

"Only three." The Head Rick asked, his voice remained cold but held some sort of undertones as if he was about to tell the other guards a joke. "Then why is it, we have found another member of your Rick's collection?"

Guard Morty could only swallow heavily while the tiny Test X1 Morty was shoved in his face. This was going to end horribly...

"We found this pathetic Morty when we arrested your current Rick. So that would make four, wouldn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"But you told us there were three of you."

"Sir I-"

"Are you just that stupid of a Morty, soldier?" Several of the other Mort Guards started quietly snickering at his expense and he felt heat rising to his face. "I mean, Mortys are notorious for being terrible at any math above high-school algebra but this is just basic addition. Are you one of those dumb little Mortys that needs to count on their hands?"

He felt his lips quivering as he tried to defend himself, loathing how much his voice was shaking and stuttering. "Nn-No sir! I-I-"

"Come on, spit it out soldier! Don't waste my time with stuttering! Are. you. an idiot?"

Guard Morty's heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. There was no way they all couldn't see how scared and embarrassed he was now. You're never supposed to let anyone see how scared you are. Ever. "No sir!"

"So then you lied to me?"

"I, uhh I-"

"Did you lie to me; your leading officer, your commanding Rick?" The other Mortys died down and looked intently at the soldier in question. Over a dozen of his own eyes staring back at him with anticipation.

Morty took in a shaky breath, he was doomed either way. "... Yes sir. But I sincerely apologize sir! I-I didn't think-"

His apologies fell on deaf ears as the two guard Rick seized his arms and yanked him out of his chair. Rainbow Morty almost looked like he would charge after them but several Mortys shoved him roughly back and he cowered into his seat.

The Head Rick turned to a Rick sitting behind the front desk of the room, not even looking down or acknowledging Guard Morty. "We should have him back in half an hour. It won't take long."

The Rick looked up from their paper and simply shrugged, "Eh, just as long as he's back by the time their Rick's trial is over, you're fine."

With that, Guard Morty was hastily marched out of the room, not even having the time or dignity to bother struggling. Without looking down to the group surrounding him, the Head Rick addressed all the Mortys. "Let this act as a presentation to the rest of you useless pawns for what happens to liars and traitors." With that, the Ricks all left the waiting room with the pack of Mortys following quickly behind, eyes filled with a morbid fascination for what was soon to come.

Just before leaving, one of the Guard Mortys went back to Rainbow Morty and dropped Test X1 Morty into his hand. The poor Morty splatted into his hand like a ball of putty. "Here," The Guard stated, trying to remain mechanical and direct. "Don't lose track of him. W-will have your other fellow Morty back shortly."

When all the Guards were finally gone, Rainbow Morty finally let himself gasp for air. He reached across to the chair next to him, pulled Egg Morty into his lap, and hugged both small pink Mortys close to his chest. "I'm so sorry Morty. This is all my fault." He said in a small, terrified voice. "I thought I could see. I was supposed to see and be ready. But I forgot that it's night and the world is so dark... I thought I could see but I wasn't seeing well enough..."

~~~

After being marched through several more hallways, the Guards finally let Rick go. He was quickly shoved into the center of a large circular room where a panel of Rick towered high above him. His hands itched to get onto his portal gun but as it was, his hands were restrained in these weird-feeling cuffs that forced his hands forwards and refused to let his arms bend past a few degrees. He was in hot water, no doubt about that, but Rick only felt annoyed and angry by the whole scenario rather than petrified with fear. After all, he knew this day would be come eventually.

"Rick: earth dimension G-421."

"Yeah? What do you old farts want now?"

One of the council members sarcastically mutter something along the lines of "Yet another feisty one. So refreshing." while jotting some notes down. Then the speaker of the council stood up.

"You are here to answer for your crimes against the Citadel and your High Coucil of Ricks."

"Is not joining a fight club really considered a crime? Li-Like Oh no! I don't force children to fight! S-such a traitor to Rick-kind!"

"It is when you keep adopting so many Mortys yet so stubbornly refuse to participate in this or any activities we've mandated."

"Please, I can name like twe-twenty fucking Ricks off the top of my head who don't fight their Mortys and you've never hopped on their asses about it!"

"Well this isn't a trial pertaining to them. This trail is only concerned about your lack of involvement-"

"There's Ricks running fuck-fucking bordellos full of Mortys! I've seen them, it's fucking gross! And I've never heard of any of those getting shut down!"

"This trial does no pertain to, as you so generously put it, bordellos full of Mortys. You've committed crimes, regardless of how small you view them, that could qualify as treason. And this trial is yours and yours alone. So you might want to start preparing a defense for your actions."

Rick huffed a sigh, but remained silent after that.

"Very well. We have knowledge of you collecting at least eight different Mortys as of right now, but have only been able to retrieved four. Where are the others?"

"Fuck if I know, I'm not their _grandfather._ " Rick said with a purposeful bite. But much to his disappointment the council had no visible reaction.

"Technically no, but regardless. What exactly were you and your..." The Speaking Rick's eyes seemed to light up slightly as he read over some of Rick information on a tablet and leaned over to another council member. "Heh, look at that, this one has a Stanley too. Weird, better keep track of this pattern if it continues..."

Just as quickly, the Rick stood back up straight and made eye contact with the Rick in question. "What were you and the Stan Pines from your dimension doing with all these Mortys?"

"Needed a bigger workforce to get some shipments of space meth done and we planned on keeping them around after that." The wasn't any point in lying. Every type of Rick, especially every type of criminally-invested Rick, from across the Multi-verse came through the citadel, many even considered it home. There were Ricks who had done worse, much worse things then Rick.

The council didn't even bat an eye at Rick, honestly drug shipment was docile compared to most of the stuff they saw on a daily basis, hell, it was docile compared to some of the things many of the council members did in their previous lines of work.

"Fair enough. What about the halzingers then? Why would you refuse to compete yet need to buy a large stash of Morty-reviving equipment?"

"I found out some of the kids I picked up were actually dazed. So I got some halzingers to help get them back in their feet to work. Anything else you want to know? Cause that's about it. Needed to finish making drugs. Saw a fuckton of Mortys running around. Got some of them to come work with me. That's it."

The council turned to face one another and quickly came to a silent agreement. "We'll take your word for now. You need to understand, we can't be too careful with wayward Ricks trying to upgrade their sheilds for Morty-induced dumb-waves. For now you don't need to worry about your status changing to 'traitor of the Citadel'."

They paused, expecting Rick to have some reaction of gratitude or even a sigh of relief but Rick remained as apathetic and moody as a Rick can be.

"However, we still feel we ought to keep you here at the citadel. Help get you into the Pocket Morty spirit, so to speak."

That got a reaction out of him. "Oh god no." Rick breathed, trying again to get his arms to bend and reach his portal gun. But with a snap of the Council-Rick's fingers, a guard emerged at his side and confiscated the portal gun, along with any other devices that were in his coat pockets. Rick could only watch dumbfounded and offended but helpless to stop them.

The speaking council member continued as Rick's jackets were turned inside-out for any weapons or machine parts. "As of now are a competitor in the Pocket Mortys battles. Until you are able to beat all of us in combat, you are to stay here within the Citadel and it's given territories, collecting and training Mortys to fight. And because I'm feeling in such a great mood, your four Mortys we confiscated will be returned to you and will act as your starting Morty pack. Mass-transport portals can be found at several stations throughout the Citadel and can be used to explore and compete in randomly selected territories. Do you understand?"

"Fu-fuck you!"

"No, it's 'fuck me', cause ya'know where all the same guy. Get it? Also keep in mind any inventions you create while within the Citadel boundaries will be susceptible to patents by the Citadel depending on how successful or useful they are. Now, if you don't have any questions then you're free to go."

With that, the Rick waved a hand and Rick was being dragged back out of the council room. Head still pounding, eyes seeing red and pockets uncomfortably light. 


	8. Uhhhh... Ummmm, I Cant Really Think of Any Good (Stupid) Titles for this Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About stinking time I finished this chapter, yeesh! Sorry it took such a long time, don't even know why though. Oh well, hopefully the next chapter comes out quicker and even better!

After driving like a madman, Stan sprinted up the stairs and nearly ripped the front door off it's hinges when it took a few seconds too long to get the key in the lock.

"Guys!" Stan shouted while turning on every light in the house. "Hey! Kids get up! We got us a rescue mission!"

The few Mortys left stumbled out of the bedroom looking at Stan like he was delirious. "Stan are you drunk?" Hippie Morty asked, watching the man tear through cabinets and drawers with much less coordination than expected.

"A little. Dammit! Where'd Rick put that stupid thing!" Stan grumbled in his mad search.

"What are you looking-"

"A'ha!" Stan cheered, cutting Greaser Morty off mid-sentence, almost dropping the beta-model portal gun as he pulled it out of the drawer. "Why'd Rick put you with the cutlery?" Waving the gun around, he turned around to the Mortys, now a much smaller group then he anticipated. "Wait, where's the Rainbow one? And the Gaurd?"

"Uhh, we don't know. I-I mean when we woke up they were both gone." Morticia said.

"Along with Egg Morty and that Test X1 guy." Hippie Morty continued.

"Dammit, well I know Test X had snuck out with us... But we gotta get moving! A bunch of Old Ricks took our Rick and Test X1 and I'm gonna need your guys help getting in and blending in at the Citadel. So go get ready! And get all of the space meth junk off the counters, don't want anyone breaking in and getting any ideas."

While Stan rushed out of the room and started grabbing any items he thought would be a necessity Hippie Morty cautiously followed him. "Uhh Stan? Have you gotten any sleep? Like at all?"

"Nope. But that's not important right now. Go get ready!" Stan slipped on a his pair of trusty bronze knuckles as he continued. "The longer we wait around the harder it's probably gonna be to get Rick out of whatever trouble he's gotten into."

"Do, do you know what he did?"

"Honestly kid, I have no idea what's even going on half the time. But whatever it is, it's not good and we really need to act fast. Now go get ready! I want us out of here in five minutes tops!"

Hippie Morty in return gave a half-hearted 'Yes, Sir.' before leaving the room to go change. In what might be defined as a living room but was more like a glorified hallway with a couch and TV, Stan reached under the couch cushions and pulled out a thin metal box fitted with a plasma screen. Stan quickly typed in Rick's password and logged onto the strange device.

The first few things to immediately pop-up on the screen were mostly weird Rick advertisements for machines and services at the Citadel. But after a bit of fishing around Stan finally found the webpages for Rick Trials and Investigations going on within the Citadel. A webpage that was updated nearly by the hour with new scandals and council cases. Stan found his Rick's face under a headline titled 'What's up with Ricks these days?', his grimace only deepened as he scanned over the article.

_Council Ricks assume suspicion towards Rick, earth dimension G-421, after several sources tell of him capturing a surplus of Mortys without any evidence of fighting, training or even selling them! And after the massive and very memorable case involving a rouge Rick from several months ago, precautions must be taken to avoid having more Ricks abuse the power of a Morty's brainwaves of idiocy. The Rick is currently being arrested and tried. And while his 4 Mortys have not yet been put up for adoption, you can place some pre-bids here! They're a wide range of Mortys ranking from 'feeble and pathetic' to 'intensely trained in combat'. So why not place some pre-bets ahead of time and make your claims even before they go on sale!_

Stan's pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Four? Stan hoped that Rick might of picked up three more kids while at the citadel... But it seemed really unlikely.

Just as he got up, he saw Mini Morty on the side table. Frantically trying to wave around a sheet of paper three times his size. Stan took the paper and sat Morty up on his shoulder.

 _Mortys,_  
_Rainbow was getting all antsy. He believed Rick was in danger, so I'm taking him and the Egg to go check up on Rick and Stan. We should be back before any of you wake up, but if not I wrote this letter. Peace!  
Guard_

Great, just fucking great! Stan groaned again as he stood back up and shoved the letter into one of his pockets. "This thing just has to keep getting more and more complicated, doesn't it?" Well, at least now Stan knew they were all in the same place. Probably. Possibly. Stan called out to the other Mortys. "Hey! You guys ready to go?"

"Yeah!" The Greaser Morty answered back, while popping the collar of his jacket. His hair was now slicked back and was thankfully a far cry from the dazed mess that scared Stan earlier. The other two followed just behind him with long hair tied back and yellow shirts that matched despite being made in entirely different dimensions.

"Ok, ok we got this. Anyone have anything left they need to do before we go?"

Hippie Morty raised his hand hesitantly, "Uhhh, Shouldn't we leave a note for the others? For when they get back?"

"Nah I wouldn't bother. Pretty sure they got taken to the Citadel too. And if not, I'm sure they can fend for themselves. Any thing else?"

"Ready when you are boss." Greaser Morty said.

"Great, let's get going then!" Stan fired off the portal gun and the five of them were off.

~~~

After being marched back through several hallways, the guards shoved Rick into an elevator and he found himself facing four of his Mortys. Before he could even turn around, the doors whizzed shut and the elevator started speeding down.

"The hell are you guys doing here?"

Guard Morty's sported a black eye as well as a busted lip that had only stopped bleeding recently and he spoke up in a hoarse voice. "We were worried about the Council coming after you and Stan so we left the apartment to go warn you. But along the way Guards came and detained us."

The way the guard spoke now, it wasn't a distinct change at first, but there was a waver, a stutter in the normally clear and conscience Morty that really irked Rick.

"So what happened to you? You look like you got mauled by a mob or something."

Guard Morty seemed reluctant to answer and flashing red lights and Rick's mind only grew louder when he saw him visibly curl in on himself. The kid that normally stood stiff as a rod was now cowering away and Rick was utterly certain there was many more bruises and marks hidden under his jacket then he seemed to let on. Finally he answered, only imitating the robotic, stoic way he spoke when Rick first met the kid out in the wilderness. "I-I... When my Commander asked me how many Morty's were in your care, I only said three. I, I didn't want all the others at home getting in trouble too. But they found out I was lying and Th-they, they... I had to be punished for my disobedience and made an example of in front of my fellow Morty comrades."

Rick glared at the floor, "That doesn't even make sense. You, You don't even work there anymore." He tried to argue though there was no fight behind his words. To be honest he was unsure if what he was saying would truly help at all.

"They said my tr-transgressions were still and insult that needed to be punished... A-And, and even if they don't consider me a soldier right now, that once this craze dies back down, I-I'll be back on the force regardless..."

"That's not true," Rick began, still looking anywhere but the stuttering kid on the verge of tears. "I don't care what those bastards say. Once all this all dies off, you're not going anywhere. If you don't want to, at least. Ok?"

Guard Morty was silent to that, staring dead ahead at the elevator doors as if that would make them open faster.

"I know stuff with us isn't ideal. But I hope you know Stan and I are really trying. And things are actually looking up! We made some amazing deals last night. I mean seriously I knew our stuff was gonna sell, but folks were going crazy for it, treating the shit like gold. So once we get back home-"

"How are you being punished by the council?" All at once, the stoic, orderly Soldier came back, though Morty was still shaking.

"What?"

"From the looks of it, they're letting you off really lightly. And that means they're making you do something instead of just torturing or humiliating you. So what is it? What do we have to do Rick?"

Rick sighed, hands fighting around in his now empty pockets. "They took all my shit, including my portal gun and said I can only get it back once I beat them all in Pocket Morty Battles."

The reactions were immediate. Guard Morty and Test X1 had more melancholy reactions, Guard Morty looked sadly towards the door while the smaller stranger Morty fell onto Rick shoulder. While the Egg showed no response besides wide open eyes, the Rainbow Morty holding him was suddenly roused from his meek state.

"You promised we wouldn't ever fight again!" He shouted accusingly.

"And you won't." Rick answered back. "Christ, give me some credit! I've been dodging all these Trainer Ricks and shit since the very beginning of this craze, I'll just figure out a way to get us home around all of them."

"Are you sure?" Guard Morty asked "It, It wouldn't be wise to upset the council more."

"Don't worry about it. They deal with so many Ricks an hour I doubt they'll even care about my case by nightfall."

"Technically it's still nighttime."

"I don't care. Point is there are loads of ways around them and all the crazy trainer Ricks too. We'll be out of here before you know it!"

"And what if any Ricks give us trouble?" Guard Morty pressed, still very doubtful.

"If any Ricks get in our way, _I'll_ deal with them. All you guys have to do is make me look as inconspicuous as possible, and maybe help out some when we finally get to making the gun."

"Wait! That's your plan? Just building another portal gun?!"

"So far."

"But it can take some Rick years to finish making a stable portal!"

"Lucky for you, I'm not one of those Ricks. I'm pretty sure I can find all the junk we need just from scavenging in a handful of dimensions. And the rest I can buy off of some dealers."

"How can you possibly-"

"Come on, it's going to be fine! And if not we just improvise, alright?"

Before Guard Morty could object any more, the elevator doors burst open and they found themselves nose to nose with the bustling streets of the Citadel. Just before stepping out of the elevator, Rick turned to face the Mortys who were all lining up behind him in the typical Morty-fashion.

"Look, you don't have to believe me, or trust me, or whatever, but can you at least just try and follow my lead for now, if nothing else?"

"... ok Rick."


	9. Put up Your Dukes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Golly Gee Willikers! Sorry this took a while to upload. Originally I thought I'd have it done at most two weeks after the last chapter but I ended up taking longer and longer and somehow I finally finished it in the middle of my finals week. Oh well, Hope you like it!

Stepping back on to solid ground, Stan and the Mortys exited the portal and found themselves up on a balcony overlooking the bustling streets and colossal mase-like complex of the Citadel. But while Stan might of wanted to gap more at the sheer size of everything he also felt himself going into a defense-mode, ready to fight back against any stranger who might give them trouble. From what Rick had always told him the Citadel was never big on inviting in newcomers, especially anyone who wasn't a Rick or Morty, the only exception being the occasional Birdperson apparently.

But it seemed like Rick must of been mistaken somehow, cause Stan could see hundreds of creatures running around that simply couldn't of been some variant of Rick or Morty. And it seemed like no one even noticed if he was out of place let alone looked tempted to confront Stan about it.

That at least took care of one of Stan's worries, getting spotted like a sore thumb and tossed out before he could even begin looking for Rick. But unfortunately Stan's other worry was still very-much rational. How the hell was he gonna navigate this labyrinth of fancy escalators, and shops, and god knows what else? It wasn't like there were any maps or guides around, Ricks were too prideful for that. And it wasn't like anyone would actually give Stan the right directions if he asked, Ricks were too much of assholes for that too.

Stan squinted to try and look at a sign. Nope. Either it was a bunch of alien scribbles or just looked like it since it was too far away for Stan to read without glasses.

"Ok, you kids got any idea where we are?" Stan asked in a lowered voice, not wanting to reveal to any of the passing Ricks that he was actually a newbie here.

"Uhhhh I think this is close to a bar my Gramps would take me to in between trips. He'd always say I was his designated-driver." Greaser Morty answered, scanning over the floors of the stores and shops they could see from the balcony they were on, "Yup, right down there!"

He pointed down to what might of been the ground floor to a black and neon green square of space that seemed to clash with the silver-gold look the rest of the place was going for. Ricks and Mortys covered in all kinds of tattoos and piercings were loitering around it's entrance.

"Alright, nice. Now how far would that be from say, uh wherever the Council of Ricks are based?"

"Uhhhhh," Greaser Morty face scrunched up, as he tried to concentrate. "Jeez! Sorry Boss, I swear use to know how to get there! But it's been a while..."

"Can you at least give me a direction Morty? Like if your Rick were in trouble and you were leaving the bar, which direction would you head out?"

"Ummm, right?"

"Great, let's-"

"Wait no! I'd go right but we should go left!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Cause y-you know we're looking down at the bar so their left is our right... or something?"

"Sounds good enough! Left it is then!" Stan lead the way to a nearby escalator and the gang began their decent down to the streets. "Wait so you know how to drive Mort?"

"Naw," Greaser Morty said shrugging "The old man would never trust me with any of his stuff. He'd just say that I was his driver so I could get free stuff at the bar."

"Huh, not even a bike or anything."

"I use to have one, back when I was trying to start my own gang. But then I ended up having to sell it when things got rough."

"Aw, sorry to hear about that. I actually use to be part of a gang a while back. I think I actually have my jacket still somewh-"

By that point they reached the end of the escalator and stepped onto the Citadel streets. But Stan's feet hadn't even reached the ground before an old Rick and his team of brutish Mortys were rushing over to them.

"Hey you there! Wanna fight?"

"Uh no, we're busy." Stan and the Mortys tried to step around the group but instead found themselves nose to nose with the others as they tried to escape.

"C'mon Pines! Your Mortys a bunch a wimps or something?"

"I don't wanna fight so get out of my face." Stan growled pulling his three Mortys behind him while Mini Morty cowered into his pocket.

"The thing about weakling Mortys is you gotta suck up some of that pride and take them out for fights. They'll never get stronger if you don't push'em, really push them till they break. So you might as well save yourself some of the humiliation of fighting out in the multiverse and get it over with here."

As the other Rick went on Stan saw how his Mortys, a bunch of burly, scary-looking kids began cowering away. Subtly enough that their Rick couldn't see but Stan knew that look, he saw it on his own kids whenever they brought up any bad experiences they had in fights. It was like a cold slap to the face and Stan was seeing red. Again he tried to shove his way past the Rick and his gang but for as much as they feared him, the Mortys were loyal to a fault and pushed him and his kids back into their place.

"C'mon! How'bout we fight on 760 schmeckles?" The Rick pulled out the jingling bag of money from his coat and waved it up in Stan's face like it were full of dog treats. Stan grit his teeth. "Huh? That sound good to you?"

"Fine. Let's fight."

The Rick cheered as he slipped the money back into his coat and began ushering his Mortys into place. "Ha, knew you'd take the bait! You Stan's will do just about anything for money, won't... you?"

When the Rick looked back up, instead of the gang of weakling Mortys he had expected Stan was still standing in the middle of their small circle. Handing Hippie Morty the Mini Morty in his coat then turning back around and taking on a fighter's stance.

"What the fuck are you doing Pines?"

Stan smirked and raised his fists. "You said you wanted to fight, let's fight old man."

Rick looked around carefully. Several other Ricks and passing creatures had actually stopped now to see what the commotion was about and how the only semi-legal match would pan out. He turned back to Stan rolling his eyes. "Bet you feel real smart now, don't you. A real fu-fucking smartass."

One of his Morty's in a luchador costume tried to step forwards in his place but his Rick quickly yanked him back by his cape. "Alright Pines, I'll fight. But don't think for a single second I'm gonna go easy on you kid. You think you're smart, bu-but you missed a few lessons back at school. Here's a refresher."

Striking like a snake Rick's fist suddenly shot out and connected with the side of Stan's face before he could dodge and the match began.

~~~

If Rick were clenching his jaw any tighter, he'd probably be able to grind his teeth down to powder. He'd never paid attention to all the dumb rules of this thing and now he felt like he might be paying the price. Out of the way of the bustling streets of Ricks and glaring down at the screen on his Mortypad, one small paragraph seemed to take all his focus while the other steps and rules faded to a blur.

_You must defeat the champion Rick in your randomly selected dimension who can be found at a gym. Upon winning the battle, only then a portal will open and you and your team will be sent back to the Citadel._

The only way to get back was to fight? Were they fucking serious? So those Ricks that would wander through other dimensions like Crypto dimension L-731 were literally stuck there until their Mortys beat everyone else to a dazed pulp? He felt like screaming, breaking something. If they tried to go to another dimension to find supplies, unless they made some unsavory deals or he went back on his promise to the kids they'd be stuck there.

"Rick?" Guard Morty asked nervously. "Wh-What's the plan here Rick?"

Rick didn't say anything, and it terrified him almost as much as being dragged off by his old captain to be humiliated again.

"Rick... What's wrong?"

Rick sighed before shoving his Mortypad back into his coat. "Turns out once we leave in one of those portals, we're stuck until we beat up everyone else."

"So what are we going to do?"

For a long period, Rick remained silent, mulling over the shrinking list of options he had.

"I'm... I'm gonna find somewhere for you kids to hide-out, and then I'm gonna go recruit some more kids and we're gonna fight and collect enough gear."

"What?"

"You guys will have to lie low, m-make sure no other Ricks try to go after you or try and take you. Stanley's gonna be pissed that I'm getting more Mortys but what can you do..." All at once Rick's face lit up and he smacked himself on the head and ran hands through his hair. "Oh my god."

"Rick?"

"I'm such a fu-fucking moron..."

"What do you mean?"

"The cutlery! I-I forgot to take apart the Beta! I left it in the fucking cutlery..." He turned to the other kids, sighing in relief. "Ok new plan! Instead we all lie low here, make sure not to draw any attention, and we track down Stan then make our way home!"

"Are you sure Rick? Will Stanley be able to get here in time?"

"Trust me, he's probably on his way right now! We just need to regroup and we'll be out of this dump!"

Guard Morty still looked cautiously to the towering buildings surrounding them. "What about the Council? A-and the Guards?"

Rainbow Morty nodded in agreement. "They have very big eyes and ears."

"Don't worry about them kid, they don't really care they just like making a big production out of everything they do. Seriously I promise you that once we're gone they won't come back looking for us. Why are you so worried about them?"

Guard Morty bit at his lip, wincing when he remembered it was still split and scab over. He tried to build up the courage to answer.

But either to his luck or dismay, he wasn't fully sure, several Mortys and Ricks began running down the street. They excitidly passed cash and schmeckles to one another as the hurried. Rick was able to snag one Morty as he ran. "The hell's going on?"

"There's a huge fight going on down near that edgy Rick bar!"

"So what? Mortys fight all the time." Rainbow Morty said sullenly.

"No! This is between trainers! Uhhh a Rick and a Stan I think! I heard it's getting real intense and folks are starting to make bets!" With that, the Morty wiggled his way out of Rick's grasp and went to go rejoin his own Rick.

"Dammit Stanley what have you gotten yourself into?" Rick muttered quietly to himself. "Come on guys, we better go get him out of trouble."

"Wait! What about lying low and staying off the council's radars?" Guard asked trying to hurry though it caused nearly his whole body to burn.

"Eh, we all can lie low once we regroup and get out of this mess. Besides it's Stan, how bad could it get?"

 

 


	10. In Which Stan Takes "Rolling with the Punches" Very Literally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. Also sorry these are taking me such a long time to write :y But don't worry, the next chapters coming soon!
> 
> Also I finally got around to editing the story summery. I noticed it's changed a bit from the initial idea I started with ten chapters ago. (Man, this thing has really gone on for ten chapters now!)

Following the crowd, Rick and his Mortys easily found the mob of Citadel goers cheering and gambling in a broad circle. From the outside, Rick couldn't even tell who was fighting inside all the chaos.

"You kids stay here." Rick warned. When Test X1 tried to give him puppydog eyes he pushed the tiny Morty out of his way. "I mean it! It-It's gonna get rough in there. You kids just stick to the outside that way if things get h-hairy you can get away fast. Got it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Rick began muscling his way through the crowd to get a closer look at the fight. Test X1 squeaked in protest but made no effort in following him this time. Instead, his gently landed on Guard Morty's shoulder and pouted.

Rick payed them little mind as he fought through the numerous copies of himself as an old man to get through to the center. And after a few well-placed jabs to people's sides Rick finally managed to weasel into the inner lining of the mob.

Inside the circle, Stan was going at it with this old Rick. He was sporting an eye doomed to bruise soon while the Rick had some blood streaming down his face either from his mouth or nose, possibly both, Rick couldn't tell. He could also see their other 4 Mortys standing along the sidelines cheering for Stan and trying to be helpful. Granted though, while the kids meant well none of them seemed to know a lick of real fighting technique and were about as helpful as the other spectators around them.

Stan looked down right furious. He glowered at the old Rick, never breaking contact and never giving the other a moment to back away and catch their breath. Whenever the Rick would try and strike, Stan was able to dodge most of the attacks and charge back towards the other in response. But whenever one or two strikes would manage to land on Stan, there was a crack that would break through the air, cutting through the sounds of all the other Ricks and Mortys' shouting.

Stan hadn't even noticed him yet, not that he had expected him to. With such a crazy opponent plus a rowdy crowd, Stan's focus was solely on the old Rick trying to give him a second black eye, possibly even claw his eyes out.

Despite looking so bony and frail, the old Rick obviously had some technique behind him as well as a lot of force hidden in his blows aimed at Stan's chest and face. And despite Stan's own size and skill it seemed like he was never able to really knock this guy down and get him to stay that way. He'd almost always dodge Stan's attacks and if not, he'd shake them off as if they never happened.

Rick sucked in a breath and started shouting support to his Stan. This was probably going to take a while, but at least it was sure to be interesting.

"Come on Stan!" Rick tried shouting over the crowd. "You gonna take this bullshit?!"

~~~

While waiting on the outside of the crowd Guard Morty carefully looked around the whole area. So far, there were no security guards or policing Ricks in sight but he knew that they could spring out anywhere at anytime.

Almost out of the blue, Rainbow Morty pulled him from his scouting, "G-gee," he began with a forced shiver. "It sure is chilly in here... Would you mind lending me y-your coat?"

"Don't you already have a vest on?" Guard Morty asked irritatedly.

"Yeah sure, but I doesn't make my arms any warmer. C-come on, help a fellow Morty out?"

"Well..." According to protocol, a Guard was never to remove their jacket for another. But then again, he wasn't technically a guard right now. And it wasn't like he had a scrap of dignity left to face his fellow Morty comrades or leading Ricks with... "Whatever, here you go." Nudging Test X1 off his shoulder temporarily, he quickly shrugged of his old coat and gave it to Rainbow Morty.

In return, Rainbow Morty handed the giant Egg to him while he put on his coat. Gaurd Morty couldn't help but grimace at the sight of his torso. His plain grey shirt he always wore under his uniform was torn and had blood stains scattered all over. He resembled an Unkempt Morty, even a Hobo Morty more then he did a professional Guard of the Citadel! He held Egg Morty close to his torso to hide some of his more obvious wounds there, even when Rainbow Morty offered to take back the egg.

"Very well. Uhh, th-thanks again! For the jacket, you know." He said shrugging. If it weren't for the length of his curly, proofed-out hair, he'd look like the real Guard now...

Guard Morty just grit his teeth and tried to go back to keeping lookout. Rainbow Morty probably didn't know what he was doing, he just wanted a jacket. It wasn't fair nor reasonable to take his own anger and disappointment out on him.

And he really hoped that this crowd didn't get too out of control. Any louder and they were sure to catch the attention of the guards, he just knew it. And who knew what they would do to them then after having caused so much trouble for the Citadel already...

~~~

Stan was beginning to think he may have underestimated this guy. Either that or by some freakish curse he had lost all his skill during that last few months he took off from boxing. Cause somehow, this gangly old fart was getting the upper hand of Stan Pines.

He hit Stanley again, his face flying off to the side at the impact. What the fuck was going on?! Having years worth of good technique was one thing but this... This was fucking ridiculous.

Finally, Stan was able to shove the guy out of his face and catch his breath a little. The left side of his face felt tingly from the litany of hits the other had aimed at his face. And he couldn't hide a groan when he brought his own hand to his face and it burned. "How... How are you doing that?" Stan asked between heavy breaths.

"I got my ways." The Rick grinned back maniacally, rubbing some dried blood off his face with the back of his hand. He just stood there, daring Stan to come back at him.

And Stan did, after finding his breath again he charged at the other, one fist raised while the other was set to a defensive shield. A crack resounded in the air as Stan's fist connected with the Rick's face and another came just as quickly when Rick's fist missed its mark and landed on Stan's raised arm.

Before the Rick could stumble back, Stan fisted his ratty lab coat and tried to raise him off the ground. It was only for a brief flash, but when Stan looked down he saw rows upon rows of tiny golden vials filling the guy's pockets. Then two wrinkly hands were fisted into the sides of his long hair and a skull was crushed into his own.

~~~

Keeping a steady lookout was getting really hard with only one good eye. But it felt even more difficult for Guard Morty with that stupid crowd constantly bellowing into his ears.

When everyone almost collectively started ooing from inside the crowd. He felt himself unconsciously take a step back from it all. Just hearing the sound reminded him of how much his ribs still ached and how all the other Mortys had gasped in horror and how some had even laughed...

He felt himself flinch as a gloved hand fell onto his shoulder.

"Ah-are you ok?" It was just Rainbow Morty, still wearing his coat and gloves. He could see some of his obnoxious vest peeking out and clashing with his dirtied uniform. "You look like you're having visions, what do you see?"

"Leave me alone you loon." Though his warning had no bite, he still nudged the other Morty away, refusing to look at the other any more then he had to.

He tried looking towards the ground and was met with the sight of Egg Morty. It was rather unnerving to see such intelligent, open eyes on a small fetus-like creature. Especially when they were filled with such worry and concern like that.

So instead he looked off to the side, away from all the crowds and the Mortys.

Just in time to see a portal opening up with lines of uniformed Ricks and Mortys exiting. Nightsticks at hand and tasers ready.

He hated feeling so paranoid yet ended up being right like this.

~~~

Stanley felt like he was trapped underwater as everything was a blur of flashing colors and sounded so far away. Except that stupid Rick whose pained laughter was right above his face. That fucking jerk. And he swore he could hear Rick, his Rick shouting from somewhere high above, up in the clouds and stars for all he knew. He was telling him to get back up...

Looking around it felt like everyone was towering over him. As colors focused back into shapes and shapes turned back into people he realized he was lying on the ground on his back. He must of fallen down from the impact.

Soon his hearing came back into focus too. Like the volume on a radio being slowly turned back up. Everyone was shouting. Some with ecstatic cheers, others booing and chucking old tin cans and spools of wire across the circle. The kids were still here, thank god! They all sounded scared though, asking repeatedly if he was ok or if he could get up.

He gave the kids a weak thumbs up and tried to push himself back onto his feet. He could feel his forehead pulsing, his arms felt way too light and airy for his liking and his knees felt as sturdy as jello. But at least he was standing again.

And that Rick was still laughing his lungs out. "Oh man..." He said catching his breath again. "I-I didn't think that would even work! That was just so fucking perfect!"

"What-" Stan cringed at how weak and breathy his voice sounded. "What are those vials for?"

Stan couldn't stand the look Old man Rick gave him then. It brought back way to many memories of years upon years school teachers glaring down at him and shoving overly-complicated words in his face.

"Wow." He began, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really have no idea what's going on here, do you?"

Stan walked forwards, willing his hands to feel solid again.

"I mean, I knew you Stans are real dumbasses. But you're just-"

His punch made its mark on his face, though it wasn't nearly as hard as he had hoped.

The old Rick looked like he was going to retaliate when a stream of blue energy shot above his head and towards the opposite end of the mob, knocking out one of their onlookers.

"That's it! Party's over!" All at once, there were Guard Ricks approaching from all around and the mob surrounding them began scattering like fleeing ants from a damaged anthill.

In the panic, Stan saw the old Rick glare at him. "You Stans may think your tough shit but out here, in the real world, you're completely fucking useless! And whatever Rick you're looking for is probably better off without a worthless, dumb ape lumbering after him like you."

He fired off a portal gun and began shoving his five Mortys into it. "But this isn't over. I promise you, if I ever see your stupid face again I'll fucking destroy you with my bear hands a-and I'll take all your weak-ass Mortys too!"

Then with that he jumped through the portal and was gone. His threat still hung in the air tensely.

But Stan wouldn't have much time too let the unease settle in his guts cause as soon at the portal closed up, more Guards were charging at Stan, guns sparking with blue light.

 


	11. Where is this all even going?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm sorry this took a while (again!) Also sorry if this all feels sort of forced and kinda lame or anything like that. :P I have no idea what I'm doing. Worse comes to worst, I'll go back later and completely rewrite this chapter.
> 
> But on the other hand, I looked at the hits recently and as of now this story has been read over 1,800 times! Thats more then any other story I've ever written! Thank you all so much for deeming this story readable and even enjoyable!

Stan ducked down as bolts of blue energy whizzed just above his head. He had to get moving. Now.

"Kids?!" Stan tore away from the circle center, thankfully his Mortys where still there. Hippie Morty had been hit by a stunning gun and was being held between Greaser Morty and Morticia.

"You guys got Mini, right?" Stan spotted the tiny Morty waving frantically for Greaser Morty's leather pocket. "Ok good, now let's get out of here!"

All around was utter chaos. Surprisingly several Ricks decided that instead of running away by foot or Portal, they would shoot back at the Guards. Defiant, competitive and apathetic to all consequences were the ways of a Rick after all, Stan guessed.

"C'mon, let's try and get over to that bar!" Trying to crouch while running, Stan lead the way through the chaotic mess. They were still close to the bar Greaser Morty had mentioned. If they could just sneak over there without Stan being recognized as one of the fighters, then they could safely hide out in some dark corner and continue their search once all this hubbub died down.

Or at least, that was his original plan. As they began running Stan heard a Rick screaming close behind them.

"Stan!"

He tried to ignore whatever Rick it was, pretending he didn't hear them, but they just kept yelling at him. If they kept this up they were gonna blow his cover. Stan muscled his way into a group of panicked aliens hoping to loose the adamant Rick. But the guy was persistent and sounded like he was getting closer.

"Shit! Stan! L-Look out!"

Stan tried to turned only to feel a familiar shock hit his upper arm and zap through his body. As his sight rapidly darkened he saw who the Rick was. And the last thoughts running through Stan's head before he completely blacked out was "you gotta be fucking kidding me right now!"

~~~

"Son of a-"

Rick sprinted forwards and grabbed one of Stan's arms before he completely slumped to the floor.

"Rick?!" Rick turned to see who was supporting Stan's other side and saw four of his Mortys, completely flabbergasted. Apparently Stan let them all tag along. Rick didn't really know why though, besides Greaser Morty really these kids seemed kinda useless as a search party.

"The hell are y-you doing here!" Morticia tried to yell over the firming guns and shouting.

"Doesn't matter! We need to get out of here! Where the hell was Stan going?"

"He was trying to get over to that bar. Said we could hide out in there or, or something." Morticia answered back. Not the best plan, in Rick's opinion at least, since all these goody-two-shoes Mortys would stand out like sore thumbs in a bar like that (not to mention since it was right next to the fight it was probably gonna the first place to be check by the Guards for any folks involved in the fight) but Rick didn't feel like coming up with a different plan. If they were going to do this though, they better do it fast. The longer they stayed out here, the thinner the crowd got and Rick didn't want to be the last Rick standing surrounded by guards.

As they half-ran-half-dragged-Stan, Rick noted the Hippie one was thrown over the Greaser one's shoulder while still trying to help Morticia carry Stan on their side. Grinding his teeth, he remembered the four he left back on the outside of the mob. Hopefully they didn't do anything stupid to get him in anymore trouble...

Scanning quickly over the crowds a flash of pink and gold caught his eye. Then he spotted the egg, his Egg Morty, in the hands of some grubby hobo Morty.

"Hey you! Where the fuck do you think your going with my egg?!" Rick wormed through his pockets but found them empty. Oh yeah, those Council asshats looted his stuff earlier. And he went to go find some sort of weapon in Stan's pockets when the kid raised a hand defensively while the other still tightly hugged the egg.

"Wait no Rick! It's me! It's Guard Morty!!" Rick looked over the kid carefully and sure enough he recognized some of the cuts and the gross-looking black eye from earlier. Yep, it was his uptight, stick-in-his-ass guard brat. He struggled to motion the kid over to him while also pulling Stan passed the bar's entrance. Hopefully he followed.

Inside the bar it was dark, loud, reeked of smoke and crowded to a ridiculous degree. Would of been perfect for hiding had it not literally been right next door to the fight. Rick had a feeling most the people in here right now had probably been outside and just got the same shitty idea as him.

Rick picked a booth not to suspiciously close to the entrance but still not to suspiciously close to the back and shoved Stan and the Mortys into it. Greaser Morty and Morticia hurried to throw Stan's jacket over his shoulders and positioned him so it looked like he had just passed-out from drinking too much or something. Mini Morty struggled to pull the hood of Stan's jacket over his head.

Rick collapsed on the other side with the still knocked-out Hippie Morty leaning against him. He tried to bring on an air of nonchalance. Like he had totally been drinking in here all day and definitely not involved in the fight outside. He didn't even look over as the raggedy Guard Morty tried to calmly walk inside and sat down next to him.

"What the hell happened to your uniform?" Rick asked trying to hide how out of breath he felt. It was just him and the egg, no Rainbow Morty and no tiny little squishy Mortys in sight.

"I-I-I gave it to Rainbow Morty outside and-"

"And where the hell is that kid now? And my Text-X1 Morty?"

Guard Morty was trying to keep a cool composer, and was failing terribly. "I-I don't know! We-we were all together and then I panicked and I- and I- I don't know-"

Rick reached over Hippie Morty to grab Gaurd Morty's shoulder. "Okay, just breath alright. We'll worry about them later. For now we just need to lay low, not look guilty and everything will be fine."

As the words came out of Rick's mouth, they hadn't even been sitting for a full minute, several Guards and their Mortys marched into the bar. After a few gruff orders the Mortys all fanned out, eyes scanning over the crowds robotically, daring anyone to try and leave without raising suspicion.

"Just breath kid."

Morty really wished he could. It was such a simple order. Breath. The simplest one he'd ever gotten. Yet his body simply wouldn't comply. Whatever air was moving through his nose was ragged and rapid. He knew what he needed to do but his body just wouldn't. He realized grimly his body was going into the state it normally was after a nightmare. A state that could only be calmed by curling up in a ball. But there was no time, not now, it was too late. And even if he had time, there was no way he'd ever do his coping tactics in front of everyone like this.

Instead he tried to focus on Rick's hand on his shoulder. That grip was sort of like a hug, in a Rick-ish way. And when he was curled up he was basically trying to hug himself right? He tried at least to ground himself with that thought. And while it didn't help the mess he was internally, it did help him recreate some of the cool, collected mask he'd spent years mastering in the academy.

There was one Guard Morty walking along the booths, glancing into to every seat. And he was making his way closer and closer to where they all were trying to blend in. Guard Morty let his mind all but focus on making the hand on his shoulder turn into an anchor and keeping the stern frown on his face as cool and uninvolved as possible.

As the Morty Guard got ever closer Rick let himself look over their small group. Greaser Morty was the only one who might almost look like he belonged in here. All the other Mortys, poor kids, they looked like clueless, guilty idiots.

But it was too late to do anything different. The Morty Guard was looking right at them now. They were so screwed.

"We're you outside just now?" The guard asked sternly.

"What if we were?" Rick snapped back, scooping up Mini Morty and placing him on his shoulder, never making eye contact with the guard. "I mean, if we, if we were its not like we'd tell you that."

"I guess that's true. The truth always is a terrible hider."

Something about the way he talked sounded terribly familiar. Rick let himself look at the guard and realized their hair was far too poofy to fit the normal Guard uniform. And a small sliver of Rainbow fabric peeked out from under their white coat.

"Shit Rainbow Morty? W-What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The faux Guard looked over his hands and rubbed them nervously. "I was mistaken in the cross fire for one of their own and I've found myself stuck in this position and can't escape." He turned to Guard Morty, "I'm sorry, it appears I've stolen your life like a thief."

"W-wait! You don't know anything about being a guard though! You-You've had zero training!" The real Guard Morty said, their apathetic mask once again crumbling.

"I do what I must." He crouched down next too look at Egg Morty. "Good luck growing friend, your a wonderful listener and I know someday you'll be a great leader."

Then straightening up, he grabbed something out of his pocket and put it in Rick's hands. It was a wide-eyed, terrified Test-X1 Morty. "Take care all of you. And beware the demons that slip in and out of your worlds and dreams."

"Will you cut the dramatics for like two seconds kid! Wh-what the hell does that even mean?"

If Morty looked like he was going to answer, the Guard near the entrance interrupted him. "This is a waste of my time. Come on Mortys, we got actual problems to deal with! Let's head out and move on!"

Rainbow Morty turned toward the Rick and walked back towards him. His walk was too stiff and forced to look natural.

"Please don't do this!" Guard Morty hissed, trying not to let his friend's cover be blown. "Morty! This won't help anyone!" He turned to Rick with a desperate look on his face. "Do something! Please this is going to end so horribly!"

Instead Rick just shrugged, letting Test X1 float out of his hand and over to the unconscious Stan. "Not my problem. He wants to go, I'm not gonna stop him."

"But why is he doing this? It makes no sense!"

"Hell if I should know. The kid was a loon even when I first picked him up."

"But he just stole my job! A-And no one's even noticed?!"

"Like I said, the kids not my problem anymore."

With that, a tense silence fell over the group. Rick ordered a disgusting looking mug of purple foam and they all waited for Stan and Hippie Morty to wake up so they could finally get out of this Citadel dump.


	12. Nothing Like Coming Home to a Big, Bowl of Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! And they're finally heading out of the Citadel! Yep... Don't really have much else to say. Hope you enjoy this new edition!

Hippie Morty was the first to wake up and was as panicked mess. Rick had to hold him down as he thrashed around and he still kept a firm hold on the kid even after he took in their new settings and calmed back down.

"Where-"

"We're inside some shitty bar in the Citadel. You and Stan got hit before we could get to you but you're both fine."

"Rick? Where the hell did you come from? We, we were all gonna look for you then this old Rick showed up and-"

"Yeah, they were gonna arrest me or something dumb but I talked my way out of it and we-we're all fine. And we'll get out of this dump after Stan gets up too."

This seemed to get Hippie Morty to relax again some though he still looked concerned with Stan who was still slumped onto the table, as well as the Guard Morty who looked rather small and almost alien-like without his usual uniform, not to mention all his cuts and bruises. "Wha-what happened to you a-and your stuff?"

Shifting the egg in his lap, Guard Morty turned to Hippie Morty. The usual coldness he'd been trying to emulate had a much stronger realer anger behind it. "Nothing you should be concerned about. Rainbow Morty stole my stuff and now we won't be seeing him for quite sometime..."

The answer didn't explain much but Hippie Morty was too scared to push the seething Morty further. In its place, a tense silence resurfaced as they waited for Stan to come back.

When Stan did finally wake up it was a much slower process. Unlike Hippie Morty who had shot back up like he'd been struck by lightning, Stan was more of a groaning, sloth-paced mess. When he lifted his head off the table his whole body tensed. Eyes still unfocused, he scanned his surroundings. Staring down each Morty till he recognized who they were and his body began to relax from the fighters position it had tried to take. When he looked at Rick though, that defensive demeanor came back full force.

"What the hell happened?! We came looking for you guys!"

"Well, they arrested me but th-they ended up pussying out and let me go with a warning. So... Yeah, you crashing in all gung-ho really, really wasn't your brightest move Stan."

"I thought you were in trouble! You could of at least called or something! I didn't know where to even begin looking for you!"

While Stan was in hysterics, Rick had tried to keep a chill attitude but found himself raising his voice more each time he went to defend himself.

"Those Council asses took all my stuff! What was I supposed to do, send some fu-fucking smoke signals? And if you were so fucking desperate to rescue me or whatever, wha-what the hell was the street fight? You had plenty of time to have y-your ass handed to you by some retirement home escapee!"

"The guy wouldn't get out of my way and he wanted to start something, and I don't let people treat me or my kids like shit!"

"Well thanks to you and your, your fucking anger issues, you almost got yourself killed and me arrested like the second time in a fucking hour!"

"Oh, so you would of just stood there and let some old Rick treat you like a dog? Besides, I could of taken him in like seconds if he didn't have all these weird gold serums strapped to his arms."

Rick threw his hands up in the air before letting them clatter back onto the table. "Whatever! Let's just get out of here and never come back!"

"Fine by me." Stan replied stiffly. He felt bad for yelling so much in front of all the Mortys, they all certainly looked so shaken up. But he saw red when he looked at Rick. He thought he'd been in danger, hurt, maybe even dying and instead not only was he basically fine but he actually seemed disappointed that he showed up.

So he glowered at Rick as he downed the last of his weird purple drink and pushed the two Mortys on his side out of the booth. When he had first woke up, everything had seemed so dark but now that his eyes adjusted, he realized what was off about Guard Morty. But Rick was yanking up their other kids and ushering everyone back to the front entrance before Stan could press further.

"We got everyone here? If not to baaaad! It's time, to go to home time! I hate this place so much, like none of you have any fucking idea." When they got outside he still kept a loose grip on everyone from behind. Very bleary eyed again now that he had more alcohol in his system. "Wait where's the beta gun?"

"I have it." Stan pushed himself away from Rick and went to take aim.

"Y-you check the coordinates?"

"They're on the right coordinates!" He snapped back at Rick.

"Ok... You sure?"

Instead of answering, he looked back at Rick with a death-glare furious enough to send shivers to the Mortys spine yet Rick showed no reaction.

"Jeeze, Fine! Just, just wanted to make sure we don't end up in some blingo-borp's kidneys or something cause you're being all pissy!"

Completely ignoring Rick, Stan fired the gun and a portal was open. And they all finally went home.

~~~

Whatever was in the air at the bar followed them home and further festered throughout their apartment. When they got back it was still ridiculously early in the morning and everyone was exhausted and rather grumpy.

As soon as they entered the apartments, Guard Morty went and locked himself in the bathroom, refusing to answer to anyone who knocked on the door.

While still not looking at Rick, Stan apologized to the Mortys for dragging them into the Citadel mess and for yelling. Then after placing Mini Morty back in his makeshift bed, Stan and all the other Mortys went to the bedroom and were out like lights.

All except Egg Morty. He sat on the kitchen table while Rick nursed a beer and stared at him.

"S-Some night, huh?"

The tiny figure inside the egg just stared at him. Not the he expected anything different really. After all, Rainbow Morty had mentioned he was a great listener, not speaker.

"Yeah, it's been a real roller coaster. But at least some it's over now. Stan'll come around, he always does, and everyone else will be alright too. Guard Morty though..."

It remained unspoken but the only one he was really worried about was Guard Morty. He'd... He'd been through some serious shit a couple of hours ago. It made his blood boil still thinking about it. And on top of that now Rainbow Morty stole his life and was gone. It was sort of a monkey's paw for Rick. At least now those Guard Ricks would never look for his Morty again but at the same time the kid seemed so broken about it. And he wasn't ever certain this had been what he really wanted. For all Rick knew this was supposed to be a temporary place for Guard Morty, but now cause of Rainbow Morty there was no old life to go back to. He had no choice.

He could hear the shower running and fans whirring from the bathroom, dampening whatever noise the kid was making. But he could still hear him cry out every once in a while, must be trying to take care of all his wounds himself. Rick knew he'd be ignored if he tried knocking on the door again but he felt so useless just waiting out here, just boozing and twiddling his thumbs, practically holding a vigil for the kid, fucking useless. But there wasn't much else he thought he could do. Guard Morty wanted to take care of himself he could go right ahead, Rick wasn't gonna let it bother him.

But it was though. Just a little but enough to make Rick want to grind his teeth in frustration.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into with all these fu-fucking Mortys..." He muttered before downing that last sips of his beer.

When he got up and opened the fridge, his drunk mind easily reached for another bottle, acting on muscle memory. Just before closing the fridge his eyes fell on the carton of milk. And he took that out too. He ended up spilling more milk on the counter then he'd like to admit but when he went to sit back down at the table, a bowl of cereal sat at the table too. The bright neon kind that was probably more sugar and dyes than actual food.

Then he was back to drinking, and waiting, and drinking some more, and occasionally talking to the Egg so he didn't feel so alone and awkward.

The clock on the Microwave read a little past five when Guard Morty finally came out of the bathroom. Leftover shower-steam spilled out of the room and Morty looked much, much calmer then he had rushing to the bathroom earlier. His hair and skin had been cleaned and any of his open cuts had been dressed. His black-eye still looked horribly swollen though and the bags under both his eyes didn't make it look any better. He was surprised when he walked into the kitchen.

"R-Rick! You're still up?"

Rick shrugged and tossed his umpteenth empty beer into the trash bin. He'd been tossing all his empty bottles in there and wasn't quite sure how many he'd actually had now. "Didn't want you to be the last one awake or whatever. You, You want any cereal? I think I made it a while ago so it might be mush now."

"No! No, it's fine." Guard Morty went to sit down and if he had any complaints about the cereal being mushy he didn't mention it.

"You doing ok, Mort?"

"I-I'll be ok... Right now, I'm much more worried about Rainbow Morty."

"Don't think there's much you can do for him now."

"He's gonna get himself killed..." The way Morty said the words it wasn't like he was mad or paranoid, he simply stated it like a fact.

When he started wolfing the cereal down, Rick went to say something but Morty forced himself to stop before he could even form the words and ate each spoonful much more slowly. When Rick looked over at the Egg it had this pitying look on its face that looked kind of weird on such an insentient-looking egg-thing.

While a tenseness fell back over the trio, Rick cleared his throat. "Look, I'm not gonna try saying anything like 'Don't worry' or, or fuck 'it's out of your hands now'. Cause to be honest what Rainbow Morty did was kind of a dick move, even if it did technically save our asses back at the Citadel. But between you and me, I think we could'of taken those guards if we had to."

He felt himself breath a little easier, when he saw the smallest smile peak onto Guard Morty's face, even if it was so fast it seemed like a flinch.

"And just know that no matter what happens, our deals still good. Y-You can stay here as long as you want. Ok?"

"Ok Rick."

"Good! Now you should really trying sleeping or something. Cause you look like some sort of Zombie Morty."

"Honestly, I-I'm not tired."

"Bullshit!"

"Really, plus Stan and the others are already asleep. I don't want to go in there an-and wake them up again."

"Then it's a good thing we got a couch too."

"... Fine." Sighing, Guard Morty got up and put his bowl and spoon in the sink. "And what about you? Y-You just gonna sleep on the table?"

"You'know what? You go right ahead and watch me punk."

"Is-Isn't that calling the kettle black? Demanding that I-I go to and sleep while you just stay awake till you go insane?"

"Maybe, but it's not like I'd give a shit either way."

 

 


	13. TFW You Wake Up and all your Problems are Still There :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months... Years...
> 
> I'm sorry it's been a while! I had two fan-weeks for pairings I love back to back and had no energy for my actual stories. But now those are out of the way and I can get back to these dorks and all their Mortys!

The first thing that registered for Rick was harsh sunlight seeming to zero-in directly onto his face. Squinting, Rick tried to turn away from the light only to find he wasn't lying down. The second thing to register was a disgusting crustyness stuck to his face as he tried to lift his head. Gross. And the third was a horrible soreness pinching his neck and back as he tried to sit up. God dammit, he actually fell asleep at the table. And not only that, but he must of been drooling up a storm too. God he hoped he had, cause he was not in the mood to deal with anything worse than spit.

He was able to sit of straight for a few seconds before his shoulders began slumping and his head hit the table again. Nope, everything felt way to bright and loud. His head felt like it was filled with lead and there was a pulsing migraine right under his eyebrows. Sure, he may of had worse morning hangovers but it didn't make this one feel any less shitty as it happened.

When he heard foot steps coming into the kitchen they felt like rolls of thunder going straight to his skull. He heard Stanley's voice but couldn't really figure out what he was trying to say. Probably something about spending all night drinking himself into a stupor or sleeping on the goddamn table. Then the blinds were being twisted shut and the room was finally a little bit darker. Rick sighed in relief without thinking and slowly brought his head back up to see Stanley.

He was still in a tee-shirt and sweat pants and was looking down at Rick in annoyance. Like he was one to judge. Rick couldn't remember clearly right now but he was pretty sure both he and Stan had woken up face-down on a table or bar before, so fuck him for being all judgmental and sour-faced. Rick wanted to deck him in the face.

Now that he thought about it more though, Stan was probably still mad about last night more then sleeping on a table. Yeah, that made more sense.

Surprisingly though Stan didn't say much else. He went over the the fridge and Rick had to duck down again before the fridge lights burned out his retinas or something. Squinting his eyes he watched as Stan leaned over to look into the fridge and was given the perfect view of Stan's butt. He was sure Stan knew it by now but he had a really nice butt. Maybe if he wasn't so shitfaced right now, he'd say something or maybe he get up and go hug him from behind. Actually now that he thought about it, he probably shouldn't do that if Stan was still pissed off at him.

When Stan came back over, he sat down next to Rick and placed a water bottle in front of his burrowed face. "Here, drink this before you pass out again."

Tentatively, Rick took tiny sips. His throat felt so dry and abused, the icy water burned as it went down. He brought the bottle up to his forehead relishing that coolness.

"How long were you up?" Stan murmured, trying to keep his voice quiet.

"I... I forget. I was keeping Guard Morty company while he, while he was up..." Rick's voice sounded like he had the flu or something, all scratchy barely passing his mouth.

Stan took Rick's hands in his and lowered the water bottle back away from his head and towards his mouth. "Yeah, I saw him over on the couch. What the hell exactly happened to him?"

"Look, I don't even know half of his fucking soap opera. But apparently he pissed off his old captain and got punished o-or something. He wouldn't talk about it but he looked like, like he got mauled by a mob. And then Rainbow Morty went and pretended to be a guard like a total dumbass so now he's out of a job?" Rick took a sip of water but now it's cold did nothing to stop the churning in his stomach. "I don't know... but I'm not letting that kid go back into the Guard, wether Rainbow decided to pull this bullshit or not."

Stan nodded, and his face scrunched up like he wanted to punch something. "Why the hell would they do something like that?"

"I don't know, Rainbow Morty turned out to be a real f-fucking wild card-"

"No, I mean the Guards. Why would they do that to him. He's just a kid."

"Fuck if I know! Seems like it's just a thing... Birds fly, Fish swim and Ricks are pieces of shit."

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, pulling him close and Stan's head rested on top of his. "Maybe just the grumpy old ones..."

They stayed like that for a while. Huddled close while Stan egged Rick into drinking a little more water. The sun rose and grew more powerful until even the shut blinds couldn't keep out all the blazing light leaking into the kitchen. When Rick groaned, digging his palms into his eyes, Stan took ahold of his hands. "Come on, let's get you into a real bed." Stan pealed off Rick's jacket and put it over his face. The he pulled him up and carefully walked him through the rest of the apartment which seemed white-hot in Rick's eyes. Stan had to practically carry Rick as his legs felt boneless.

"Why didn't you bother going into the bedroom last night." Stan asked nearing the bedroom, thankfully the darkest room in the house.

"You seemed pre-pretty mad so I wanted to give you space. Plus everyone was already in here. Didn't want to wake anyone up."

Rick pulled the jacket away from his eyes as Stan shut the door behind them. There was a large space on the bed where Stan must of been but besides that there were Mortys all over the place. All cuddled up in a big pile while a few limbs dangled haphazardly off the bed.

Stan and Rick crept towards the Mortys and tried to sit on the bed with as little noise as possible. But even then, Greaser Morty looked up on impulse when he felt the bed dip. Though his heads easily hit their pillows again as soon as Stan and Rick were settled. Rick hadn't realized he brought Egg Morty in with them and he placed it up on the pillows next to Morticia. Stan put him on the edge of the bed, tilting his head towards the wall just in case he got sick. Wrapping his hands around his chest and middle, he pressed his face into the back of Rick's neck.

"We can talk more later. Just go back to sleep..."

And with little outside help, Rick felt his eyes drooping and everything went blissfully dark.

~~~

The next time Rick woke up, his stomach lurched painfully and he felt something rising up the back of his throat fast. He scrambled over to the side of the bed and empty out his stomach onto the floor. Rick grimaced when he noticed it was all whatever he had been drinking last night and a little stomach acid at this point.

When he looked around he realized he was the only one left in the room, blankets scattered about had even been neatly folded at the foot of the bed and pillows were put into a pile across from Rick's head. That was weird, usually he and Stan never bothered folding back up blankets or anything. Maybe one of those Mortys did it.

Rick didn't dedicate much more thought to that though when the stench from the floor hit Rick directly in the nose. Jesus Christ! If he didn't take care of that right now he'd definitely puke again.

Careful to step around the mess, Rick got out of the bed and walked towards the door. Well, at least he didn't feel as painfully hungover as earlier this morning. He immediately took that idea back though when he opened the door and his eyes were assaulted by bright sunlight. He stepped back, trying to shield his eyes but ended up just falling on his ass.

God he hated hangovers.

When he looked up again, a giant shadow was standing above him. Stan's frame looked beautifully gigantic, especially like this with light shining out from behind him and his body acting as an eclipse.

"Morning sunshine!" Stan teased, pulling Rick back up to his feet. His smile was wiped right off his face though the second he got a whiff of Rick's breath. "Ugh! What the hell did you drink last night?"

"Don't, I don't really know. Definitely tasted better last night. Whatever it is it-it's all over the floor now."

"Ew, gross!" Rick laughed while Stan wrinkled his nose and shoved him away, not enough to knock back onto the floor but at least enough to to get Rick's mouth away from Stan's nose. "Seriously! Go wash your mouth out with beach or something, before you kill a man!"

"Fine!" Rick replied, still laughing a little and slinking off into the bathroom.

Once he had a mouthful of mouthwash, swishing the gross taste out of his mouth Rick got a good look at himself in the mirror. He had definitely looked better. Hungover and exhausted as shit with dark, bags under his eyes. By looking at his hair you'd think he'd been sleeping with his hands in an electrical socket. Plus his roots were getting dark again, he'd have to redye his hair sometime soon.

As he spat out the mouthwash and switched to water though, his eyes caught the sight of crumpled bandages hurriedly thrown into the trash. Upon closer inspection he realized they were fleck with dry brown speck and in some areas seemed to be entirely coated in the stuff. Dried out blood. Guard Morty's no doubt. Rick sighed and shoved the bandages down into the bottom of the wastebasket.

Yep, he was definitely still mad about that, furious even. If Rick allowed him the rare occurrence of being honest with himself, the thing that pissed him off the most was the fact the Morty was gonna try brushing this whole thing off his shoulders. Like he was invincible and nothing could get to him. Even if internally he was dying inside. And Rick knew there was pretty much nothing besides maybe mind control that could get Morty to admit that what he just went through last night was not having any effect on him.

Like alternate-dimensional Grandfather, like Grandson Rick supposed spitting out the last of his water. Still though, that annoyingly perky mint freshness was stuck in his mouth. Well, at least it wasn't the grossness from when just woke up.

Rick shuddered as he remembered that mess. Crap, he still had to clean all that up, didn't he? And for maybe for the first time since they moved into this crappy apartment, Rick counted himself some version of lucky that this whole place was tiled.

~~~

Stan sighed as he went back towards the kitchen. He and all the Mortys finished off the last of the cereal in the house. And while Stan ate, he felt this nervousness begin bubbling in his guts.

As much as he wanted to talk things out, clear the air between them or whatever, he was dreading the moment. He and Rick were never ones for deep talking. Snark and banter to the point of nearly finishing each other's sentences, practically every hour of the day. Mundane bullshit like food and money, pretty much the same as breathing. But feelings? Or deep thoughts? Usually they kept those to themselves and respected their choice to simply let that kind of stuff fester untouched in the back of each other's minds.

But Stan still tried to rationalize that it was for the best to talk about all the bullshit that went down last night. Cause it pissed Stan off to high heavens to be left in the dark like that. And he was pretty sure Rick had stuff he was still mad at Stan for too. Hopefully talking it out would take care of all that though and they could move on and go back to normal. Or at least as normal as things could be between the two of them.

He certainly didn't expect that eating cereal with five identical kids from alternate dimension plus a sentient egg and floating pile of goo would feel normal. And yet here they were.

But some of that nervousness was also coming from Guard Morty. He seemed fine right now, methodically eating cereal quietly off on the counter. But Stan could see the imprints of bandages sticking out from underneath his shirt. Not to mention the poor kid's face, still a mess of bruises and broken skin. No doubt now for Stan, the kid had seriously had the shit beat out of him. But despite all that, Stan found himself more worried about Morty's wounds that couldn't simply be seen.

Stan could only hope that he could help him. Show that neither he nor Rick would leave him alone. Maybe help him figure out where to go from here. After all, having been dishonored, beaten, everything you cared about slapped in your face and then abandoned by those you trusted. Stan could begin to relate...


	14. Let's go to the Mall! TODAY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god it's been over a month! I'm sorry to be gone for quite a while, I promise I haven't abandoned this yet. I've got a whole list of stuff the decided to happen in September including loosing our internet and school getting crazy but point is I'm back now and will hopefully update more frequently!
> 
> And as always sorry for any wonky writing and grammar. You'd think with a month to edit and iron all this out I would of caught any mistakes but you'd be surprised :P

"Ok Not that, not that anyone gives a shit but the bedroom's puke-free again." Rick announced proudly.

Stan turned to see him stumble into the kitchen. He looked slightly less tired but that wasn't saying much. He still had a sickly pale from early this morning and scrawny enough to get blown away by a light breeze. Plus the bags under his eyes were so dark they looked more like smeared makeup from far away.

Greaser Morty wrinkled his nose in disgust and dropped his bowl into the sink, "Good thing I was done with that."

"Whatever, we have any cereal left?" Rick asked, having to lean onto almost every countertop as he made his way towards the fridge.

"Yeah, we tried to save you a bowl. Fair warning though, it's mostly just cereal dust." Morticia replied.

"Gee thanks." Rick muttered pulling out the last of the milk and a water bottle. "Can always- I can always count on you little shits to look out for me."

While Rick ate what looked closer to cold porridge than cereal Stan watched him out of the corner of his eye. It seemed like he was going to do what the two of them usually did and ignore any sort of problem they had the night before. To just forget any arguments they might of had and move on. Stan was tempted to do that too but when they ignored their problems and tried to move on or whatever their problems never actually disappeared.

They just waited a couple days, or weeks, sometimes if they're lucky months, until something happens and then they'd argue again and again over some of the same stupid things. Rick never tells Stan important shit, Stan always over reacted to shit, Rick always under reacts to the shit he drags them into, Stan never thinks shit through... It was a cycle Stan had grown use to, sure it annoyed him sometimes but it was how the two of them worked.

But now that it was involving kids, seven kids Rick had adopted in like a single day without ever asking Stan first but still kids that Stan cared about. He didn't want to see them getting dragged into their stupid cycle too. Stan felt like it was time for him to say something. Right now. Right this very second.

Actually maybe later. Rick was finally eating something and calmed down and Stan didn't want to pull him right back into a big argument. Especially not in front of all the kids, he still felt like shit for having yelled at Rick in front of them last night. They didn't deserve to get a front row seat to their relationship problems.

On top of that, their pantries were bare and all these kids were still wearing the same clothes they came in, and who knows how long they were wearing those before that? Not to mention those sweet, sweet bunk beds he still wanted to get everyone. Yeah, shop first, have a nice day out on the town, maybe even go to the beach and deal with relationship problems later when they could talk things over in private.

Rick must of had a similar idea, at least about the having a fun-day thing cause has soon as he finished that last of his cereal and set the bowl in the sink he looked around at all the kids. "So, before all that citadel bullshit, Stan, Stan and I made an awesome deal off that space meth you kids helped package and now we-were fucking loaded. So what do you kids wanna do first?"

Hippie Morty immediately jumped up, trying to keep his mouth in time with two trains of thought. "We should go to, to Sunshine Distri-No! No, I meant Wholesome Thr- No! Dammit how could you think Wholesome Threads is a decent store?!" Hippie Morty groaned and began arguing with himself over which hipster store was truly the best.

The other Mortys started yelling out random crap they wanted to do too. Everyone but Gaurd Morty, Rick noticed. Even Mini Morty and Test X1 Morty was happily cheering and squeaking but Guard Morty just sat their finishing his cereal. He was smiling a tiny bit at least if nothing else. Rick's attention got torn from kid though when suddenly Greaser Morty started yelling.

"Heck no! No way you're gonna put me in a bunk bed! Why do you even wanna waste your money on crap like that!"

"Cause they're fun! And they save space!" Stan tired to argue back. Then almost reading Rick's mind and turned towards Guard Morty, "Hey what about you Manchurian Kid-idate, what do you wanna do?"

Guard Morty looked up surprised. "Eh, I don't really have any preference. Whatever you guys decide to do."

"Oh come on! You helped put this thing together just as much as the rest of these brats. I'm sure there's at least one thing you'd like to get."

Morty shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide the pain that the small movement brought.

"Hey! What about some new threads? I mean no offense but that shirt passed the threshold of cool ripped-up grunge right into sad hobo territory a while ago." Stan said gesturing to Morty's clothes.

Guard Morty looked down at his stuff, suddenly remembering by how worn-out and gross his clothes had become. He quietly he added. "A new wardrobe might be nice..."

Stan clapped his hands and rubbed the excitedly. "That settles that then! Today we'll go out and get you kids new clothes... And then we'll get the bunk beds!"

"Oh god no!" Guard Morty groaned. "I'd rather just sleep on the floor man!"

"You say that now squirt but you just wait."

~~~

"How' out now? Bunk beds sounding good now?"

"For the billionth fuckin' time, no! And for a billion more times, nooo!"

Stan chuckled a little outside of the dressing room in the one grunge-punk store in the tourist trap that was ShoreFront. He and Rick had split the kids off into two teams and they were currently going to the few earthy-crunchy stores with Morticia, Hippie Morty and Guard Morty while Stan was with Greaser, Test-X1, Mini and Egg Morty.

Currently while waiting for Greaser to change he had the Egg hidden in a plastic bag while Mini Morty was flying around on Test-X1's tiny shoulders, looking at the tall display cases of jewelry.

"Ok boss! How's this one look?" Kicking the door open dramatically Greaser Morty stepping out in tight black skinny jeans and a shirt with a skull and crossbones on it. "This look ok, or do you think it'll look like overkill with my jacket?"

Stan thought on it a little before teetering his hand saying so-so. "Eh, kinda getting to that over-the-top monochrome point. Personally, I'd go with maybe something bright under the leather jacket like red or blue. To make it all pop ya'know?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean." Greaser Morty looked himself over in his a mirror, slicking back his hair and adjusting the shirt.

"Plus us being in Florida and all. Going out in all black ain't for the faint of heart. It gets so fucking hot after like our two weeks of winter it's ridiculous."

While Greaser went back into the dressing room Mini Morty and Test-X1 flew back towards Stan. Mini Morty was holding a crazy-looking pair of dangly earrings, all chains with little metal star charms, and was currently doing the world's smallest puppy-dog eyes.

"Hey what did we say, knucklehead? You can get whatever you want! No need for the guilt-tripping."

Mini Morty beamed while Stan just shook his head. "I don't know why you'd bother with earnings though, your ears are like the size of an apple seed."

~~~

Over in Sunshine District, or Wholesome Threads, or whatever fucking hipster store he'd been dragged into now, Rick was looking through a rack of t-shits with dumb crap printed on them like. "Live as if you were the sun~" or "Something can come from nothing, screw chemistry and physics~". Rick had been meaning to get some new shirts, mostly to cut up into raggedy crop-tops but these were too overpriced and dumb for his taste. He usually went with more stupid funny, meaningless things for his shirts.

He glanced over at Morticia and Hippie Morty who seemed much more happy to be in the store and were excitedly showing Guard Morty a white leather jacket. The kid however didn't look nearly as thrilled as the other two.

Instead Guard Morty looked nervously down at his hands. "It looks nice guys but... I-I've just been thinking. Since Rainbow Morty stole my identity that technically means that I now no longer am a security guard..." Silently he added, I'm nobody...

"Well, then why don't you go and take Rainbow Morty's look? We could poof up your hair, and go get you a vest-"

"Oh my- Yeah! I saw the perfect quilt vest back over in the Wholesome Threads!" Hippie Morty interrupted Morticia, ready to go drag them both back out of the store before Guard Morty stopped them both.

"I appreciate the gesture you two. But I-I'd rather not. I just, I don't wanna be him just because he's me right now. I-I mean I don't know anything about Rainbow Morty..." Not to mention he hated the idea of having to grow his hair out and wear some brightly colored vest that would make him stick out in any given situation.

Hippie Mortys frowned a little, but then his eyes lit up with an idea. "Hey! Why-why don't you become a different Morty then? An entirely new one?"

"Yeah!" Morticia added, "Theres like hundreds of different types of Mortys, and who knows of about all the ones still being discovered! Odds are one of them will suit you better then a guard at the citadel!"

When the three, or more specifically the other two continued dragging Guard Morty about, hurried over towards Rick he pretended not to see them coming.

"Yo Rick!" Morticia called out. "You, you happen to bring that MortyPad with you?"

Rick turned from the rack of dumb t-shirts to look at them "Maybe. Why? What do you brats need now?"

"We wanted to see the list of all know Mortys in the multi-mul-multiverse."

"And whys that exactly? Wanna see how much better all the other Mortys are?"

"Nah, we wanna give this kid a makeover! A full monty!"

"Heh, mor-more like full Morty!" Rick added.

"Ugh! that was horrible!"

"Not my fault, you set yourself up for shit. Wh-who the fuck has ever even said full Monty?"

Guard Morty shied out of Morticia's grip while she pouted. "You guys really don't have to make a big deal out of this."

"Too late!" Before Guard Morty could try sneaking away, Rick had pulled up the master list of all known Mortys and tossed it over to Hippie Morty. "Come on, there's gotta be at least one Morty you'd rather be than those glorified mall cops!"

Guard Morty watched as Hippie and Morticia scrolled through the long list, almost able to see the gears at work in their heads. "I'm not getting out of this am I?"

"Nope!" Rick patted him lightly on the shoulder while he groaned. "I'm gonna go call up Stan and his team, this is-this is gonna be hilarious!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Mortys do you wanna see Guard Morty dressed up as? Vote now on your phones lol


	15. A Good Ol'Fashioned 80's dress-up Montage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't not put off writing this chapter so I could post it for Halloween. It just sorta happened? Whatever you think happy Halloween! Hope you all have fun putting on costumes and eating boatloads of candy!

Everyone sat and stood around a dressing room near the back of the store, impatiently waiting for Guard Morty to come back out.

From behind the curtain Guard Morty faintly muttered. "I'm not even going to question how this store is selling all these outfits that just happen to be exact replicas of other Morty's."

"Good cause neither were we! So come out here already, boss!" Greaser Morty answered while leaning towards a mirror and fixing his hair.

There was a sigh from behind the curtain and then out stepped Morty in stiff suite and yellow tie. A near perfect replica of any Business Morty.

"Oh yeah, that could be a look. You already got the scowl down to a tee" Rick said smirking.

Guard Morty didn't even bother seeing how he looked in a mirror before shrugging off the jacket and tugging at his tie. "Yeah no. This isn't working."

"Oh come on! You didn't even see how it looked, it really wasn't half bad!" Stan cried out as the Morty went back towards the dressing room.

"Nope, let's keep going. What's the worse you people got, huh?"

Rick stepped towards Guard Morty smiling wickedly. "Oh-ho, yo-you want to see the worst we can do? How 'bout you try this on for size?" He hefted a giant pile of purple fabric into Guard Morty's arms.

Guard Morty stared at the costume, trying to figure out what the hell it was before smirking at Rick and stepping back into the dressing room.

At first they might of been trying to get him a new look. Starting off with small subtle things like Blue Shirt Morty or Tank Top Morty. But at this point it became much less about actually getting him a new style and just seeing how many crazy Morty outfits they could get him to put on.

And when Stan and his group barged into the tiny Hipster Store, the already cramped space between racks of clothes and the dressing room got even more cramped. And really loud in such a small space. One couple near the front glared at them but Rick didn't give a shit. At the moment they were all much more preoccupied with shoving Guard Morty into and out of his dressing room.

For probably the hundredth time in the hour he stepped back out. This time wearing a full purple robe along with a giant fake white beard that almost covered his whole chest. "I don't even know why I bothered putting this on. I look ridiculous..." But despite the sulking tone in his voice he was still smiling slightly. And when he looked at himself in the mirror he chuckled a little.

"Come on! Give us a twirl!" Stan yelled when Morty went to tug off the beard. Guard Morty related and did one quick spin, the ends of his robe picking up and fluttering. Stan mock applauded him while the other Mortys looked for yet another Morty he could try dressing up as.

"Oh! Oh you should try being Bannana Morty next! No Raptor Morty!" Morticia said much louder than she realized as she scrolled through the long list of Mortys, picking them out randomly.

Hippie Morty looked over at her in confusion. "Wait, how the hell would that even work?"

"I don't why you guys are making this so hard. Personally I think he was perfect for a Hobo Morty." Guard Morty said smirking while Guard Morty rolled his eyes.

When Mini Morty jumped off a rack of clothes and onto the Mortypad, Moticia tried to hold it steady. "Hey Mini who are you pickin- Oh no! No!" Morticia shouted before laughing.

"Who does he think I should be?" Guard Morty asked, already dreading what was making them laugh so hard.

Hippie Morty looked over Moricia's shaking shoulders to see who Mini had picked. "T-Turbulent Juice Morty!" He said, wheezing.

"Whose that one again?" Guard Morty asked. When Morticia handed him the Mortypad he only looked down for a millisecond before hurrying to get it out of his hands. "Oh god no! No way in hell!"

As they all laughed Greaser Morty got an idea and stepped behind Guard Morty, pulling the wig and beard off fully and slicking back his hair.

"Hey, Morty! What the- What are you doing?!?"

Greaser Morty didn't answer him until his slipped off his jacket and put it on Guard Morty's shoulders. "If you're gonna be a new Morty might as well be one of the best of the best huh?"

Guard Morty immediately took off the jacket and shoved it back into Greaser's hands. When he brought his hand up to his hair he grimaced. "Did you actually put spit in my hair?"

Greaser Morty just grinned while slipping back on his jacket.

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

"Hang on, I got it!" Stan shoved past Rick over to Guard Morty, plopping a whole set of clothes into his hands and setting a cowboy hat onto his head.

"... Oh no."

"Yes!"

"No way!" Guard Morty said trying to sound serious while still laughing.

Rick pushed past Stan and shoved Guard Morty back I tot he dressing room. "Oh come on! Just don't already! Y-you fucking put on the floating head cult robes earlier!"

As the curtain was pulled back around the small space he heard a small "Fine, jeez." And some more tiny chuckles.

Rick moved back over to Stan's side, leaning onto his shoulder. Honestly if Rick were ever some sort of animal Stan had no doubt it would be a cat. So ornery and bratty, but sweet... occasionally and only on their own terms. But this was a good moment, a nice moment.

But Stan wasn't sure how long this moment would last. While dating Rick, Stan had grown even more accustom problems seemingly springing up from nowhere. And good things had a bad habit of disappearing out of Stan's life just as quickly as they came. So he was going to enjoy it while it still existed. Sitting here in this cramped pretentious hipster store, with Rick cuddled up next to his side and for once all their Mortys seemed happy too.

With a great flourish, Guard Morty yanked the curtain back and stepped back out with forced swagger, his boots clicked and his steps were forced apart and hilariously awkward.

"Look-Looks like there's a new Morty in town!" He Morticia muttered with a over the top fake souther accent. Guard Morty squinted his in a mock Clint Eastwood impersonation. And all the Mortys burst out in laughter.

That couple near the front stared daggers at Rick and Stan. Probably trying to blow them all up with their minds or something dumb. Rick just gave them a big shit-eating grin and watched them stomp out of the store. Not his problem if a few pretentious fucks don't like hearing people having fun while they shop for dumb over-priced teeshirts.

Unfortunately the attendants in the store didn't feel the same way as Rick. He saw someone he assumed was a manager start snapping at the kids folding up clothes, none of them older than seventeen, and pointing back towards their Mortys until one of the teenagers finally made his way back towards Rick and Stan. The kid wore wire-rimmed glasses, hair pulled back into a pony tail. But the most memorable thing at the moment was the terrified look on their face. Poor kid looked like he might piss himself. Not that Rick could blame them, they looked like they could get blown away by a light breeze yet was being forced to confront him and Stan, who was built like a freight train.

The kid to their credit tried to keep a stern face and tapped Rick's shoulder. "L-Look, I know you all must be having a great time and all, you and your quadruplets?, but my boss says you're being too loud and you all have to leave."

While the Mortys gasped and tried to protest, Stan spoke up over them. "Everyone? What if I just stay with my kid while he tries on some more-"

"No, I'm s-sorry... My boss wants every one of you out. Now." While the words sounded stern, the kid saying them's voice was small and terrified. Probably afraid their nose was about to be broken.

"Oh come on! We weren't that loud!" When Stan forced his voice to sound more angry than he really was, Rick could see how the kid flinched. He always loved the fact that Stan could be so sweet yet intimidating whenever he needed him to. Sorta like those Rottweilers that could go from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye. "It's not like we're just in here fucking around, we're planning on buying stuff... probably." Stan added that last part quietly.

"I'm sorry guys, I really am. But my boss said if you all aren't out of here in ten seconds he'd-"

"You gotta name kid?" Stan asked, now being more gentle-like. Rick could see the kid visibly relax.

"S-Simon?"

"Ok look here Simon, I know you were told to give us the boot, but you see my kid, the one hiding in the dressing room? I ain't leaving until he gets an outfit he likes." There was a underlining threat in Stan's tone and just as quickly as the kid had relaxed he was a stiff-backed, nervous-wreck again. Honestly, zero to a hundred.

"But y-you-"

"And I know that's probably the last thing you want to go tell your boss, and I know I wouldn't want a nice kid like you getting in more trouble than this is worth, so here's what we'll do. My partner Rick here will round up all the other rugrats and head out but me and Morty are staying. And we'll be quiet as mice, make sure you don't loose anymore pretentious fucking customers or whatever. Are we clear Simon?"

Simon nodded, "Crystal, sir. Again I'm sorry for the inconvenience, my boss can be a prick sometimes."

"No worries. I'd just hate to have any of this escalate into some big dramatic problem..." Stan replied, relaxing back against a shelf. While Simon walked away, he could he the kid sighing in relief, what a goober. Stan smirked a little before turning back to Rick and the kids. "Alright you heard the guy. How 'bout you guys go find some place to eat for lunch and me Guard Morty will meet you there."

"S-sounds like a plan." Rick replied, taking the Egg Morty bag from Stan and ushering all the other Mortys up and back towards the entrance to the store. "We'll see you there."

As they walked away, Greaser Morty angrily whispered at Rick. "You serious boss? We're just gonna roll over and let some manager-prick screw us?"

"No way in hell." Rick replied simply, mischief alight in his eyes. Greaser Morty started smiling too as he realized what Rick had planned.

~~~

From the back of the store, Stan could here the manager yelling and some commotion start. He could only hope Rick wasn't going to get all of them and that one kid Simon in even more trouble.

Guard Morty had ran and hid in the dressing room during the small confrontation and peeked back out from behind the curtains, "Stan? Are you still here? I-I'm sorry."

"Hey nothing to be sorry for kid."

Guard Morty shook his head, "No. I should of been professional, instead I just kept encouraging everyone, acting like an idiot."

"Maybe. But you know what else? You may try to deny it, but I think you were actually having fun. And if you ask me, that's much more important..."

"Whatever," Guard Morty answered, stepping out from behind the curtain and now back in his normal tattered clothes. "We better get going if we want to catch up with the others."

"What? But we haven't gotten you a new look yet."

"There is no new look to get..."

"No way! You can't tell me that there was no other Morty outfits you'd like to try on?"

Guard Morty looked like he was about to say yes. But then he looked around the store and biting his lip he quietly relented. "There, There were two I was curious about... But you have to promise me something Stanley."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Promise me you won't laugh. These are ones I was seriously considering. I... I don't want to be a joke."

"Of course kid, you got my word." Stan said, crossing his heart.

"Ok..." Guard Morty took the Mortypad from Stan, double checking the list. And heading out to explore the store "Ok, give me a second to go find the things I need. I'll be right back."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, two fun facts to go along with this chapter!
> 
> Fun fact 1: the area they're shopping in, "The Shorefront" is inspired by two places I live near in Florida, downtown St. Pete and a tourist trap of stores called John's Pass. If you ever find yourself in the area I suggest either place as a fun destination to wander around and store-hop all day with a group of friends.
> 
> Fun fact 2: the character Simon is an OC of my I'm work shopping for a possible original story. I'm experimenting with how I want them to act and look and what better way to practice then to insert them randomly into other stuff I'm working on?


	16. Treat Yo Self! Express Yourself! (Both were fitting titles!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, sorry for leaving this abandoned for another month! Schools been stressful. :P Well at least my hell-week of exams is almost over then I can take a break (and hopefully I won't have to retake any classes next semester)
> 
> But for what it's worth, here's a chapter of fluffy, watch-everyone-have-a-good-time-and-no-problems for anyone else who needs something to help get through finals like me! And sorry for any grammar and spelling errors I may have missed

Guard Morty hurried back towards the dressing room with a stack of clothes. From what Stan could see there was something white and the other thing looked grey and super dark green. Stan went to ask him what the outfits were but he ducked back into his dressing room.

The loudness near the front had died down so Stan assumed that Rick and the kids had finally left. Though he could still hear the manager yelling out orders. And that Simon kid kept on shooting him looks of concern. But since Stan didn't hear anything like "Call the police!" he hoped that meant they all hadn't stirred up to much shit. Especially over some dumb hippie store Stan didn't even like.

Guard Morty certainly took his sweet time changing now that he wasn't goofing around with the others. Stan wondered if he should try asking if he needed any help but decided against it. After all, the kid seemed to always want to be independent and all that, wouldn't even ask for help dressing his wounds.

When the curtain finally opened, Stan was surprised to see Guard Morty coming out in a full combative uniform. Everything he wore was a either so dark green it was nearly black, grey or actual black, even the hat was black like some sort of co-ops. His boots clicked under the wooden floors as he stepped out. "How does this uniform look?"

"Uh that's definitely a look, not too shabby. You supposed to be a soldier Morty or something?"

"Boot Camp actually. It reminded me a lot of my old uniform. A little different but essentially the same purpose and fit." As Morty spoke he checked himself in the mirror, and readjusted the straps on his soldier shoulders.

"You know, you don't have to just be another copy of a guard. You can be whatever you want."

"I know. It's just, I'd rather be something familiar. And it wouldn't kill to try and stay a little professional."

Something about they way Guard Morty said that rubbed Stan the wrong way. He wanted to say something more, but he wasn't sure exactly what. So he just watched as the kid went back to try on his other outfit while worry wormed its way through his guts.

When he came out again he was wearing loose white pants and a tank top. The only splash of color being a red belt tied around his pants. At first Stan almost didn't recognize him. And that really unnerved him. That by just changing his clothes and committing to the act his Morty could almost turn into a completely different person. And who knew how easily he could loose the others then too?

But at the same time it didn't look like that terrible of a change. Something about the style made Morty already look a lot more relaxed from the stiff, permenent-straight-backed posture he almost always had.

"And how does this look Stan?"

"Huh, looks pretty comfy. Like wearing pajamas all day. Whats it supposed to be?"

Stan immediately regretted asking because Guard Morty's face fell and they began fiddling with the red belt as he looked himself over in the mirror. "Self Defense Morty... I thought sticking with a fighting-Morty style would be for the best. This was a dumb idea, I look ridiculous."

But before Stan could try stopping him, Guard Morty scurried back into the dressing room.

"It didn't look bad, Morty. Looks like a bunch of stuff all those hippies wear. Elephant pants right?"

"I believe the term is hipsters." Guard Morty corrected him.

"Same thing. They all run around eating leaves and wearing weird crap made from llama fur and tree bark and think they're hot stuff cause they save the planet by being cooler than everyone." Stan said mockingly. They may try and change their names every decade or so but no matter what they called themselves they would always be one of Stan's most bitter enemies... Besides Hippie Morty of course. "My point is, it looked fine! You don't have to worry about looking stupid, just look at everyone you live with!"

"Fair point." Guard Morty added quietly. Stan could hear him laugh a little from inside the dressing room.

"And who the hell cares what we all think? You wanna wear comfy clothes more power to ya kid! Do you wanna dress up like Self-Defense Morty?"

At first Guard Morty was silent before finally answering. "... Kinda. But I also like the boot camp uniform too. They both have aspects I like about them. Dammit I don't know, maybe Greaser Morty's right, maybe I should just be a hobo Morty. I'm sorry for wasting your time on this."

Stan hurried to try and calm Guard Morty back down before spiraled any further. "Hey, hey! No pressure, alright? Why don't we just get both!"

"Are-are you sure?"

"Of course! Get as many as ya like! No one ever said you had to be one thing."

"That's true... And having more than one outfit would be practical. Just incase anyone from the guard comes looking for me when they realize I'm gone." As Guard Morty pulled back the curtain and stepped out in his boot camp outfit. "That is, if they even notice." He added bitterly.

"Well, I'm sure by now Rick and the others have noticed that we're gone so I'll just put all this stuff back and we can head out?" Stan asked as scooped up the pile of costumes and started heading back to the clothing racks.

"Wait!" Stan turned back to see Morty nervously running his fingers over the ten gallon hat. "Stan? ... If it's alright with you... Do you think that maybe I- that Icouldalsogetthecowboyoutfittoo?"

Stan didn't miss a beat, setting the rest of the cowboy outfit back in Guard Morty's arms and patting him on the back. "Of course! I already told you we're loaded so it's no big deal. I can afford to get you a hundred different outfits now! And even if I didn't, I probably still would!"

"Thank you, Stan." He said quietly, not expecting Stan to hear him. Morty hugged the clothes closer to his chest.

"No problem kid." Stan replied as he and Stan went around putting back all the outfits everyone had taken from around the store.

"Also I really like the whole... cowboy thing to stay just between us, please?" Morty said, still keeping his voice to a hushed whisper.

"I'll try, but if you haven't noticed already we kinda live with a whole bunch of nosy shits so good luck on that." Stan said. When living with a person like Rick, and anyone related to him Stan was sure, secrets usually weren't secrets for long. And the more embarrassing it was the shorter life span it would have under their roof. But no one said their Morty couldn't at least try.

After putting everything back, Stan and Morty finally got to the check-out and bought all Morty's wears from Simon. And while he seemed happy, it felt like everyone else in the store was glaring at them. Which Stan didn't really mind. It just made him wonder what Rick could of done to get such a rise out of everyone else. Being annoying and loud in the back of the store was one thing but this looked like everyone wanted to form a mob and chase Stan and Morty out of town.

"Thank you for shopping at the Sunshine District!" Simon said with a forced chipper as he handed them their receipt. He looked quickly to both his sides before letting his face fall and nervously saying. "Not that I don't think what your family did was freaking awesome, but if I were you I'd never come back here. After the stunt your partner pulled my boss completely lost it. I haven't seem him this unhinged since the bogo sale we tried to hold while restocking. He looks like he's about to rip off someone's head."

He gestured over to the man waiting right by the front doors and their only exit, looking like some sort of sentinel to the store.

"Whatever, I only feel bad for you since your the one who has to work with him. Take care kid!"

As soon as they left, several other teens rushed back over to Simon and they all excitedly whispered to one another. What the hell did Rick do?! Whatever It was it must of been something impressive, Stan decided. Especially if it managed to not only piss off everyone in the store but also make all the clerk's days.

As they went to finally exit, the manager stopped them. He looked dead inside as he stared them down. Somehow looking like he was in defeat yet also still ready to fight them to the death. Super unhinged either way.

"You are banned the Sunshine District." He said through clenched teeth.

"Uhh, ok." Stan said, trying to step around him. "What the hell did Rick do?"

"All of you. You're whole family. Banned. Forever."

"Ok, ok we get it. We'll never come back. You folks have a nice day."

Even as they left, the manager kept staring at them. He looked like he wanted to slam a door but since the store only had automatic glass doors he just stood there menacingly as the glass doors slowly closed, squeaking painfully at some points.

"Yeesh!" Stan said once they where finally out of sight of the stupid store. "That guy's got some issues to work on..."

"Yeah, he seemed... Rather easily aggravated." Morty agreed.

"Huh, guess that's just what retailers do to ya. Sucks out your soul and turns you into an over-controlling pain in the ass."

"Maybe so. But I think it depends on who your working for and who you're servicing..." Morty said, while he talked though it seemed like he was stumbling to find the right words. "I know while in the- Umm, at my old job, it seemed like the higher ranks where always super strict so everyone under them was always trying to appease them. It could definitely be... stressful at times."

"I guess that's true." Stan continued before trailing off. "A job's only as easy as a boss makes it. I guess that's why I always try to be my own boss, so I don't have to listen to no one..."

Morty had no idea how to keep the conversation going so the two walked for a bit in silence instead. Stan scrolled through his phone, looking for any messages from Rick. Apparently they decided to eat lunch over at this seafood place up on the boardwalk. So Stan and Morty walked a couple streets over to the boardwalk to meet up with them.

They found the rest of their strange group sitting at a table outside. While still being a bit cold, the sun was shining brightly counteracting some of the chill in the air. Even if it were colder though, that beautiful view overlooking the bay seemed worth it to Stan.

"'Bout time you two showed up!" Rick shouted as he waved them over to their table. "You- you guys took freaking forever! Did you try on every single thing in the store or something?"

"Naw but I think we found a couple things this kid liked, huh?" Stan asked patting Guard Morty on the shoulders as they sat down.

"Yeah, there were a few Morty-styles I found to be... Acceptable I guess."

"Yeah!" Greaser Morty chimed in. "'Got that whole, secret-service, could break you arms off thing still going on. It's a good look on ya!"

"Thanks, that's what I was going for." Guard Morty said in a way that Stan couldn't quite figure out if he was being sarcastic or actually agreeing with Greaser Morty.

"The food hasn't come yet. But we didn't know what you wanted to drink so I just got you a water and beer for you two." Rick said, scooting closer to Stan and handing him a drink.

"Thanks babe." Stan took the bottle and couldn't help but shiver. The cold beer with the already cold air was not a good combo, hopefully they got something warm to eat.

Something still irked at Stan and he could help but ask. "By the way.. What the fuck did you do in that Hipster store?"

Rick grinned up at him, looking very much pleased with himself. "You really wanna know?"


	17. Pros of Living in Florida: You're in Florida

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness. It has been way, way too long. But I'm back and I'm finally wrapping this story up! I think I've been working on this on and off for over a year now, it was one of the very first stories I published here on AO3 and it was also one of my first stories to actually gain a lot of attention and veiws. 
> 
> I gotta be honest, it's time to finally finish this meandering mess of a story. I may potentially come back to this, write a sequel and follow some of the extra storylines I've left scattered in the story. But in the meantime the next chapter after this will be the ending chapter for this story! 
> 
> I'm so grateful to everyone whose commented, left kudos, even simply taking the time out of your day to read this story. You've been so kind and supporting! Thank you all so much! And as always, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (And even though I'm wrapping up this story I've still got a few others I'm working on. Plus I'm going to be publishing some new stories tied to GF and R&M soon so be on the look out for those!)

In Rick's defense he had actually tried to be civil. He kept his head held high as that prick manager was calling them out in front of the whole store. Saying crap like they should take into account how their rowdiness had effected the rest of the store. And Rick kept is mouth shut instead of pointing out how they had only pissed off like three people in total and that as he was lecturing them a gang of teenagers were throwing stacks of tee shirts all over the place. After that he was just going to walk away and never go into this stupid fucking store ever again. It would be one-less problem for their strange little family. And Rick and Stan already had enough enemies at the moment.

But... This manager was really pushing his buttons. Like just rolling across a wall of buttons in Rick's mind. He was the human embodiment of body slamming into a greasy brick wall outside of a trashy family restaurant along the side of a highway in the middle of nowhere. Uncomfortable for everyone involved, making you wonder how your life came to this, slightly unerving, but mostly annoying. Still he tried to just brush it off. The sooner this manager got out of his face the sooner they could leave forever.

That was until the Manager just had to step over the line. He could of stuck with lecturing them for being loud and disruptive or whatever. But no, he just had to fucking go there.

He had the fucking balls to say something that instantly made Rick see red.

The guy looked like he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. And he regretted it even more when Rick finally snapped. Not thinking twice, he grabbed the prick by his stupid shirt. He stood to his full height and yanked him up so he was right in his face. Everything seemed to blur out of focus. He could hear some people gasping behind him but he couldn't care. All his focus was on letting that miserable sack of shit know clearly how he didn't give a shit about his store and if he ever said that to him and his kids again he'd rip him apart piece by piece.

He said a whole lotta other junk too, but he couldn't really remember it all. He was seeing red and ended up going on a stuttering tangent. And eventually it tapered off and he shoved the guy away, and ushered the kids out of the store. Granted that didn't stop Greaser from nailing the prick right in the gut first right before they left.

Stan couldn't help but laugh as Rick gave him a quick summary of everything that happened in the store. He ruffled up Greaser Morty's hair in approval when it got to his part. "That's my boy! Don't take shit from nobody! Wish I could of hit that prick too... And that's all?"

"Yep."

"You just walked out after that?"

"Do I look like the guy who needs to- to always escalate shit?"

Stan didn't answer that, and moved on to another question. "You don't think this will come back to bite us in the ass?"

"I doubt it. Worst case scenario, we got one less over-priced trash bin to go shopping at. We just, we fucking just go on with our lives." Rick said leaning back in his chair

Stan nodded, "Fair enough, that place sucked. No offense kids."

"Eh, any place that has jerks like that running them ain't worth our time anyway." Greaser Morty said as he still worked on smoothing back his hair from Stan's rough-housing. He could hear several other Mortys agree with him too.

Morticia added. "And, I mean we could probably find all that stuff online too, and cheaper."

"Nice to know you kids got our backs." Stan said smiling. After that the conversation lulled and split off into smaller groups. Stan looked out at the water taking everything in.

There was enough sunlight out that as it reflected off the distant waves it made the water glisten like cut gems. And that clean salty smell hung in the chilled breeze mixed surprisingly nicely with the deep-fryer stench that seemed to cling to the boardwalk. And besides them no one else was on the boardwalk besides them so they could be as loud about anything they wished. Stan tried to save this moment and everything he could sense from it, like saving a file securely in the back of his mind, all these kids and Rick sitting together by the open water. Everyone was relaxed, happy and it was a beautiful day out. It was a nice moment. But who knew how long it would last this time.

His face began sinking into a frown as he thought over Rick's story. If Stan knew what he had said before hand he never would have bothered using manners with that, that fucking shitstain. If he'd known Stan would of. He would of... He would of hurt the man with much, much more then a hit to the gut.

Under the table, he nudge at Rick's foot. And after a few times Rick finally looked over. "Yeah?"

"Uh you alright? Cause you know that guy was an ass."

"I'm fine, Lee. I mean, we fucking deal with shit worse that that all the time-"

"I know. But it's ok if you're not. You know..." Stan tried to continue but found himself trailing off when Rick gave him a weird look. He couldn't tell where his boundaries were with something like this. Despite always trying to be chill the guy was anything but an open book. Even while dating he still had trouble reading his face and he read people for a living.

They were gonna talk later. Stan tried to remind himself. He and Rick were really gonna talk later and figure everything out. And things would be fine.

Things relaxed again when the food finally came. Everyone with a mouth and opposable digits began eating. Fish honestly was one of the best things to deepfry, that and potatoes. And this place wasn't bad for a cheaply-made, overpriced tourist trap. They had a nice batter and the fried bits weren't crazy with grease either.

Stan watched as Guard Morty picked up the smallest piece of fried shrimp with the tips of his fingers, eyeing closely with distrust and confusion.

"Hey guys? Um, these aren't Popplers are they?" Morty asked, worrying.

Stan went to ask what the hell a poppler was but Rick spoke faster, shaking his head and pulling some of the batter off of the grub to show Morty. "No, definitely not. This is all legal. This is just stuff crawling around in the ocean they deep fried. Fish and shrimp and all that."

Guard Morty took the naked piece back from rick eyeing it carefully. "Your planet has humans and shrimp on it in the same time period? This dimensions so weird..." He said more to himself than Rick and the others.

Stan leaned over to ask Rick about popplers and Rick answered before he could get a word in. "Baby aliens. Taste fucking amazing. Super illegal. But they're more trouble than they're worth. Gotta jump through all these hoops just to get a piece of them, and their addicting like crack."

Stan nodded, learning way more about this weird alien food than he'd ever needed to know, and looked around at the other kids to see how they were fairing. He hadn't thought of how their home dimensions might be different.

Test X1 Morty, the lil'slime ball was sitting on Rick shoulder at the table, watching everyone else eat. Usually he would fly around more, squeaking and stuff, but a waiter kept making cycles out onto the boardwalk and he needed to stay out of sight. Stan doubted they would be able to persuade the woman she was tripping acid if she caught sight of Test X1 like all the idiots at the club last night.

Stan watched as Rick, trying not to be too obvious, smoothly gave a small shrimp he mock-ate to Test X1. His little face lit up and squirmed forward to steal the grumb. Stan didn't know what he was expecting but as soon as the shrimp touched Test X1, it just sorta phased through his membrane and was left floating around inside him. Them the shrimp started bubbling and dissolving into a mush and he sucked it into his half-formed mouth. Slightly disgusting but also cool enough that Stan couldn't look away while it happened. It wasn't until the little guy looked up and smiled at Stan he suddenly felt uncomfortable and looked away.

And just as he glanced down he caught Mini Morty creeping about the table stealing people's fries. Stan felt tiny bit of pride watching him go. He slid under the rims of the plastic baskets whenever the waitress walked by and he used it to his advantage to also nab people's food. Taking just enough that no one was getting suspicious but he was still happy. The kid was a natural. Stan couldn't help but wonder about his future. World's smallest catburgler, or maybe the smallest spy?

And as for their last weird Morty, the Egg, Stan wondered if he could give him some food like Test X1. But as he felt the shell it was way too solid for anything to phase through. Well, that was too bad. Did Egg Morty even eat?

"Sorry kiddo." Stan muttered as he wiped some of the crumbs and grease off with a napkin. And the tiny face floating inside the egg gave him what he hoped was an understanding look. He was pretty sure that's what it was. Baby faces were hard to read when they weren't at an extreme like laughing or crying, just blank looks and spit bubbles. But Egg Morty also had these eyes that just screamed consciousness. Kinda an uncanny look but since when had anything in Stan's life been normal, especially after becoming partners with Rick?

At least everyone looked happy. A far cry from the stressed, exhausted, burnt-out state all the kids had been in when they got home last night.

God that really had been only a few hours ago, hadn't it? Stan could already feel his mind trying to push back that headache he got just thinking about it. To make it feel like it happened months ago to help him get over it easier. But this all wasn't something he wanted to just get over until it happened again or got worse. If they were gonna have kids then he didn't want them to have to deal with all their shit too.

Back when it was just Rick and him they could handle any consequences that came their way from their reckless behavior. Just dust off your jacket and wipe the blood off your nose. But the Mortys were just kids. They shouldn't have to pick themselves up, they shouldn't have to put up with the serious, even life-threatening things that Rick and Stan took on as grown adults. Sure starting out they had only been aiming for using the kids as temporary help but now Stan would easily murder for these brats. They were his kids. And he loved having them around, he actually cared about them all, even Rainbow Morty

Keeping the kids out of his Rick's bullshit was definitely now another thing he wanted to bring up with Rick. He never wanted to see any of his kids threatened. He never wanted to see any of his kids hurt ever again. Even if this meant cleaning up their acts, getting out of this crystal business despite the money it brought in. Stan wanted to do it if it meant the Mortys would be safer.

Later he would to talk to Rick. He would be honest and just lay it all out. He would bring up everything thats been bothering him. They would talk and figure things out together. Things would work out.

He kept being pulled back to this long talk he planned on having with Rick. It was almost like he was trying to remind himself over and over to actually do it today. He knew, he wanted to do it. But at the same time talking to Rick the way Stan kept thinking about also felt like trying to fight a fire with a stick of dynamite. Rick would brush off problems by either subtly changing the subject, or carefully shutting down the conversation, or in cases like today shutting down really obviously and awkwerdly. Stan had never pushed Rick when he started using any of his tactics. If he didn't want to talk about it he didn't have to and Stan wouldn't stir shit up. But things had never gotten better and had only grown into bigger problems. He wanted to solve his problems with Rick. But at the same time he wasn't sure what he would do if Rick didn't want to deal with their problems. What would they do?

He'd gotten so caught up in his thoughts, Stan just realized he'd been chewing on the same piece of friend calamari for over five minutes. And while swallowing the squid he tried to get back into that "we're doing this today and that's final!" mode of thinking from earlier. That had been more helpful that worrying.

He hadn't talked this morning, and he hadn't pulled Rick aside yet and it was well past noon, but Stan swore mentally to himself he'd talk to Rick before the end of today. And if that meant talking to Rick at 11 or a even few minutes before midnight Stan promised he would make it work. He at least made that small goal for himself. Wether either of them liked it or not this conversation had to happen. They both needed to do this. And once they finally did things might get easier.

He hoped so at least.


	18. Cons of Living in Florida: You're in Florida

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! After reworking this a few times, I finally got it to a place I'm happy with. Though it did come out a bit longer than I had originally expected. I had said this, chapter 18, would be the last chapter but then it got so long I had to split it into two parts. Trying to keep a semi-consistent word-count and all. But it's finally done! 
> 
> If I'm gonna be honest, I'm actually impressed with myself. This was one of my first couple projects here on AO3, and not only this but this is my first big story that I actually finished! Thank you all and I hope you enjoy!

"I can't believe you guys actually went with the bunk beds." Greaser Morty grumbled as he helped lift the first frame through the front door.

After leaving the Shore Front shopping nightmare, they drove back inland to find somewhere to buy beds for the Mortys. And there Stan found a set of bunks much to Greaser Morty's disappointment, it was impossible to get anything else. So now working in units, Stan, Rick and the kids were hoisting two metal frames and all their gear up the stairs to their apartment.

"Oh quit whinning! They'll save space!" Stan grunted back, "And ya'know what? I don't even think you hate'em all that much, just want something to complain about."

Together the two set down the box while Rick and Morticia came in next with the second frame. Followed by Guard and Hippie Morty with several bags from the stores down at the Shore Front and Egg Morty under Hippie's arm. And Test X1 swooped in last with Mini Morty riding on his back and the last shopping bag in his tiny nubby hands.

Moving in sync Stan and Greaser set their frame down. And completely ignoring Morty's pouting, Stan beamed with excitement and rubbed his hands together. "Now we just gotta put these bad boys together and get them into the bedroom, then you kids'll finally got a place to sleep besides our lumpy piece of crap."

"Wait, what you about your bed?" Morticia asked. The apartment wasn't all that big with only two enclosed rooms besides the single bathroom.

"You can put the bunks in my workshop." Rick said easily like it didn't matter much to him. Rick the second bedroom as his workshop, used it for all his inventing stuff. Most everything he worked on, in this dimension at least, was in that room. Stan rarely went in there, of was a complete chaotic mess, even for him. Rick shook off his hands as his side of the bed frame hit the ground hard. "I'll go move my shit to my storage cube in Quinzad J-984 and grab my drill. You guys get sta- get- go put these bad boys together."

Before Stan could say anything Rick was gone from the room, and from the tale-tell sound of a portal firing up in the other room, out of this dimension entirely.

It seemed like now that they'd had finished their fun day out, Rick's mood had quickly deflated. Stan new they both wanted to have a happy day, to try and forget the bullshit they'd all experienced last night. Stan knew he certainly had. But now they had just about run out of fun, non-alcoholic, drug-free, legal things to do. It had been nice while it happened, and it was still nice now working along side all his Mortys, cracking jokes and getting smart-mouthed. But a part of Stan, the angry voice in the back of his head, the one that had been there ever since he was a small kid in Jersey with his genius brother, just had to remind him that damage had been done and last night's stress wouldn't magically disappear after a shopping spree. And there were still problems that might slither away again for another few weeks if Stan didn't confront them soon.

"Yo Stan! Hey! Are you ok?" Stan turned to see Hippie Morty staring at him, brows furrowed.

"Nah kid, I'm good. Just thinking about some... stuff?" Stan said trying to brush him off.

But Hippie Morty didn't give up just yet and the others joined in, looking at Stan with doubt. Guard Morty asked, "You sure? Rick is starting to act strange. Well stranger. And you look rather worried."

"I promise you guys, this ain't nothing you need to worry about. Rick and I just, need to- We're gonna straighten some stuff out later today. It'll be fine."

"Well good luck with that." Hippie Morty said quietly.

As they all went back to work putting together the bunk beds as a team, Stan couldn't help but remember their first team effort packaging alien drugs. God had that really only been yesterday? These kids had become so close to him in mere hours. They were like leeches but in his heart instead of on his skin. It was rather impressive when he thought about it more.

But even if they had met in bonded in such a short time, he wouldn't trade it for anything. These kids were here to stay. Their bunkbeds marked that. They were family. A thought that somehow both delighted and terrified him.

He'd started a family, a family of the same teenage kid from a collection alternate universes with the one and only, Rick Sanchez...

~~~

Stan sat alone in the kitchen hours later. His legs jiggling rapidly, hands stiff and tensed. When he checked his watch it read 10:30pm. Two and a half hours left to follow through on the promise he'd made to himself.

Rick was in his makeshift lab. Probably planned on working all night on god knows what. The kids had all gone to their new bedroom. Music, the folksy-crunchy crap Hippie Morty probably liked, blared through a cheap speaker from their room. And above the music he could here them talking and laughing. Even with the knotted state his guts were in it made him smile to know the kids were all getting along and that they were happy here with Stan and Rick. That they might actually be comfortable calling this place home... Even if Stan and Rick had done a shit job starting off.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He kept thinking about this, over and over all day. It was driving him nuts. Honestly, what had he and Rick been thinking? Sure he cared about all their Mortys but he knew shit about parenting. And he wanted them to stay, he wouldn't of bought two sets of bunk beds if he hadn't. But if those kids were going to stay here things needed to change. He and Rick needed to change. Cause he never wanted what happened to his kids last night to ever happen again.

He only hoped he could get that across to Rick.

He'd been thinking, over-thinking really, this whole day. It was time to actually do it. Getting up from the kitchen table his feet felt heavy but he pushed himself to leave, cross the hall and head back to their room. There sitting innocently, as if it wasn't impossible technology humans and aliens would murder for, right next to their bed was the portal gate Rick had rigged up. A constantly active portal so Rick could come and go from his workshop without wasting the charge on his portal gun.

A traitorous part of his mind suggested waiting another half-hour, build up more nerve a get his thoughts in order, then go talk to Rick right at 11. But he new if he did it would only make him want to confront this thing less and less the closer he actually got to the last hour of the day. He had already wasted an entire day. It was now or never really.

Silently hoping that Rick's gateway didn't suddenly crap out and cut him in half, Stan leaned through the portal and into Rick's lab.

Rick had his back turned from the gateway. Stan wasn't sure what he was doing but he had his welding mask down and blue sparks bright enough to make Stan's eyes sting flew all over the place. He hoped he could get Rick's attention by knocking on the aluminum wall.

It took a couple tries till Rick finally noticed, his back snapped up suddenly and he whipped around in his chair. But he relaxed slightly when he realized it was just his Stan.

"What do you want?" Rick asked before spinning back around in his chair and focusing on his work.

"Uh-hey!" Stan said. Dammit, he already lost the cool resolution he'd tried to make! "So, where is this place anyway? Doesn't look like a part of the appartment."

"That's cause it isn't. This is my storage space over on Maus E-124. Cheeper than anything in this quardrant. "Rick snapped back.

Stan hadn't known that actually. At the same place he wasn't all that suprised. Knowing Rick he probably had a hundred of these secret storage space- workshops all over the multiverse. But he needed to stay on track. And half-assed small talk was obviously a poor way to go now, seeing how Rick's patience had already worn thin.

"Come on Lee, you really gotta do this now? Can't you- your- I'm kinda in the middle of something here. Gotta rebuild all my shit since the Council stole it all-"

Stan forced himself not to think. No second guessing himself. Just talk before he stopped himself. "Rick can we talk?"

Rick gave a noncommittal huff and didn't turn around.

"Cause we really gotta talk... It's about the kids."

Rick huffed again, now fiddling with the welding torch but not turning it on just yet.

"Oh come on Rick, don't be such a-" Stan stopped himself before he went off. He was already getting irritated. Rick was being dismissive, he got like this a lot if he felt a confrontation coming on. Stan knew about this, he should of expected it. And if he blew up now in the first minute of this freaking ordeal then this whole thing would be a stupid waste of time! "It's not bad news, if that's what your worried about. At least it's not like super terrible. I just... I've had a lot on my mind and I gotta say what's on my mind."

He waited for Rick to say something. At first he was determinedly silent. But finally he turned around to face Stan in surrender. "You really wanna do this?"

Stan nodded, stepping closer towards him. "Rick we have to. Cause I feel like I'm gonna loose it. And I know there's stuff bothering you too."

Rick groaned as he spun around. "Ugh fine! Let me finish up this piece of crap and we can head out."

Stan looked over his shoulder and finally saw what Rick was working on. A brand new portal gun. It was completely revamped. Sleeker and less blocky and bulky than any of the other models Rick had made.

"Shield your eyes." Rick muttered as he slapped down his welding mask and started up his torch again. Stan only had a second to turn around before blinding blue sparks went flying again. Then after a few minutes, the lights disappeared as the torch was cut off. And in their place the familiar green glow of the portal gun illuminated the room.

When Stan turned back Rick was already firing off a portal onto the side of the wall with his brand new gun. He gestured plainly to the portal. "After you."

Crossing his fingers that Rick didn't suddenly backstab him and do something stupid like strand him on an alien planet, Stan stepped through. Only to find himself very much on earth still. They were at the beach. Less than twenty minutes from their place. He and Rick went here all the time during the day and night. Stan hoped it would still have the calming presence, maybe it could work some of its magic and fight off the awkward tension that had started when Stan first ducked into Rick's lab.

It was the dead of night. The moon was out giving off a tiny bit of lit but besides the streetlights over by the parking lot it was near impossible to see. Slowly Stan could feel his eyes adjusting some. When he looked out towards the ocean it looked like an alien void. Inky darkness stretching out forever. And only a few flecks of reflected light off the rolling waves divided the sea from the sky.

It was also frigid, Stan had to tuck his hands into his armpits. At least he'd decided to were a sweater earlier that night so he wasn't going to be reduced to shivers while trying to have a serious talk with Rick. The other man in question was only wearing ripped jeans and a ratty tee shirt but, he didn't seem to notice the chill. Instead he tipped back his flask, probably for one last does of liquid courage Stan figured, and walked over to him.

"Soooo... What's up Lee?"

For a moment Stan didn't even know where to start. Suddenly having seven kids? Taking care of said seven kids? The thing with the citadel? Being treated like a fucking idiot whenever they went off earth? Everything with Guard Morty? Before he got too wrapped up in everything, Stan decided to get the biggest thing out first. And hopefully that'll make it easier to keep his thoughts on track. Get out everything he needed to say.

"Rick? I think it's time to change our act."

Stan wasn't sure what he was expecting. For Rick to keep sulking? Or to start up a fight? Instead he got a defeated. "Cause of the kids?"

"No. Cause we're two grown ass adults who need to take responsibility of our shit since we wanna go live long, happy lives..." Stan said, completely sarcastic. "Of course it's cause of the kids!"

"Ok, fine! Jeez!" Rick groaned back.

Stan took a breath, trying to calm back down before he continued. "Look... I don't want what happened last night to ever, ever happen to those kids again. The Ricks? The Citadel? Fuck! Rainbow Morty? Whatever the hell happened to Guard Morty, but whatever it was it- it's just-"

"I know." Rick agreed.

Stan was in shock. Rick never agreed with Stan, with anyone, so easily. And his voice sounded so resigned, surrendered almost. Like all the thoughts that had been churning through his head were in Rick's too.

Rick continued when Stan still didn't say anything. "He won't talk about it. Don't think he ever will. But I think you made the right move today. Getting him to change outfits. I mean it might not do anything but- shit... I want it to work, ya'know?"

"I know." Stan knew. He almost hated how he knew exactly what Rick was talking about. "I know what you mean..."

"So? What are we gonna do?"


	19. Annnnnnnnnnnnd We're Done!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the absolute bottom of my heart I have to thank everyone's whose given me so much support for this story. It never would of made it past the first 2 or 3 chapters had it not been for all of the kudos and comments I've received for this story for well over a year now, almost a year and a half! 
> 
> As of now this is still one of my most-read and popular works! All of you have helped me find more confidence in my work and even helped me find a stronger inspiration in myself to pursue writing! So thank you all so much for all your kindness and I hope you enjoy these final two chapters of Gotta Catch'em All!

"So? What are we gonna do?"

Stan took a deep breath to try and ground himself. He remembered what Rick had said when he first got all the kids but he didn't think that was really the truth. He didn't think Rick got all these kids just to use as child labor. But this could make or break them and the thought terrified him. "For starters, I don't want any of the kids getting tied up in all our portal, alien, weird junk anymore."

"They're Mortys, Lee. This is what they do." Rick simply stated it, like a sad fact.

"They're just kids."

"You don't think I know that? It's- It's- Rick's will- They just-" Rick looked furious. Stan hadn't seem him struggle with his stutter this hard, ever really. Usually Rick just accepted it as a normal part of his speech but now he looked like he was at war with himself.

Rick pulled at his hair seething then stomped down towards the water.

"Rick?" Stan followed behind Rick. He approached him calmly, standing by his side but not physically touching him. "Babe? Talk to me."

Rick stared out at the void. But finally got some of his words in order. "Sheilds. They're- They- Ricks use them as human sheilds. That's why they're crawling all over the Citadel. That's why everyone's getting in on this- this fucking Pocket... And they just accepted it. Some Mortys get fucking conditioned. By their fucking grandpa. You know when I made my deal to those kids how happy they got? They were- they were over the moon cause I wasn't a complete jackass. Mortys were willing to do anything for me if it meant never going back-"

Rick died off for a moment, hugging himself and digging his nails into his arms. "But it doesn't work like that. Ricks and Mortys. It's like they're tied together. There's realities where the Rick will die but- but the Morty will still try to go out into the universe, Summers too."

"Summers?"

"Oh yeah, I got granddaughters too. She's their big sister. Morticias and Mortys. Most of them never end up outside their dimension. The ones that exist at least. She only exists if my daughter gets knocked up at her high school prom."

How much of this was Rick just keeping to himself? Stan watched his partner with some shock and worry. Rick was still focused out on the sea.

"Summer only exists cause of a poor choice, a mistake in most dimensions. Everyone gets hurt around Ricks. And I like to think I'm different. That I'll be a better Rick. But you- you know what? Every other fuckwads probably saying the same exact thing. I use everyone, I hurt everyone around me. I hate it, I fu-fucking hate it but I don't stop it. At the end of the day I'm still Rick."

Rick went quiet again. He was breathing heavier. Stan stepped slightly closer to him.

"What about me?"

"Huh?"

"You find anything out about Stans?"

"You're better off without me. Every time."

"Well I don't think so. Rick?" Rick didn't reply but he could feel that tension rippling off of him. He hated feeling so helpless like this. Part of him wanted to crush Rick in a tight hug, but the other part wanted him to sprint away and never look back. "Can I? Fuck- You want a hug or something Rick?"

"Do whatever you want! I- I don't give a shit."

Carefully Stan wrapped an arm around Rick and pulled him close. "How long have you been thinking about this?" He asked, trying to be more gentle. Trying not to be as awkward as he felt.

"A while." Rick said. "Kinda all came to a head a few days ago though. I was over on Kalel K-347 to get stuff for the crystals. And there were Mortys all over the place. They were everywhere, man. Hiding out in the forest and shit, Ricks didn't give a fuck."

"And that's why you came home with like a billion kids at once?" Stan asked, trying to joke a little.

Rick didn't answer right away. "... It wasn't like they had anything better to do. Just waiting around to go fight for Ricks. I had a deal most of'em wouldn't refuse. Helped make packaging all the crystals easier."

"Rick?" Stan knew he was lying, or at least not giving out the whole truth. "You're better than that. I know we try to act like hard-asses all the time, but I know deep down under all that you're better."

"Am I? Just look at what happened last night. As soon as I let my guard down everything went to shit. And when I tried to make things better you guys still got hurt."

Stan tried to think before he spoke. He was still mad about the whole fiasco last night. He never heard from Rick once but when he finally got to the citadel he'd gotten so pissed off for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. As if he was just supposed to read Rick's mind all the time. But then again, he was also the one who brought all the Mortys back to a place where he knew they might be in danger...

"Eh that may be true, but I'm the one who charged in, guns-a-blazin'. Then got completely sidetracked by a fight with the first random asshole I saw." Stan added the last part sheepishly.

Finally. Finally, he got Rick to smile a little. "Yeah. That was the most pathetic fight I've ever seen in my- in my life."

"Hey! How was I supposed to know he was cheating?" Stan said in offense but unable to stop smiling either.

"He's an older, saltier, douche-ier version of me. What did you expect man?"

"I just hope I never run into that guy again. Real piece of work that one."

Rick smiled a little more and shook his head. "You haven't even seen half of the bat-shit Ricks running around in this Morty-craze Lee. They're insane man. They're all wearing red capes, and all these weird outfits. I saw one guy in a pink suit walking around with diamond rings on all his fingers. Another guy was wearing bdsm shit in broad daylight."

"Oh god no!" Stan said, starting to laugh.

"Really old too. Super wrinkly."

"No! Not thinking of that! Nope!" Stan shielded his eyes trying to get the image out of his head. And for a moment, they both just laughed.

Rick calmed down, still looking happy but his voice sounded more sober. "I wouldn't mind seeing less of them. At least steering clear of the Citadel for a little while."

"And you know, we don't have to go completely onto the straight and narrow." Stan added.

"Like any part of you's straight." Rick said smugly, grinning.

Stan rolled his eyes though he was smiling too. "I mean we can still have fun. Do our thing. I just want the kids to stay out of it. And we just gotta communicate more. That way when things go wrong, cause let's be honest they're gonna go wrong, we can keep in contact and not do anything stupid. And maybe, just play it safe ya'know?"

Rick nodded, and quietly added. "Yeah, I hear ya." He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he huffed a little and shook his head. "God Lee, why- Why do you even care so much? Why do you get like... Like this?"

That was something he had a few theories for in the few terrifying moments he wanted to be honest with himself. Ma, Shemie, Stanford... Pa? But he never liked to think about it too much. Kept it hidden under lock and key somewhere in his mind. The past sucked but there wasn't much he could do now. Unless he could miraculously get a million dollars overnight. In stead he shrugged and tried to think more in the present. "I don't like it when anyone tries messing with the people I care about. I'd take'em all out. Bullies, self-righteous Ricks, crusty-old asshole Ricks, weird kinky Ricks. Jeez we got a lot of Ricks after us, huh?"

"Don't have to tell me twice." Rick said with a dry laugh.

"Yeah... plus stupid managers with sticks way up their-" Stan could feel Rick tense up slightly at the last mention but he still hadn't pulled away. "Honestly, just say the word and I'll go track that asshole down Rick. Beat the crap outta'em. You know I would."

"I know, Lee. I- I get it. He ain't worth it the time."

"Alright." Stan said sighing and just looking out at that void over the ocean.

For a little while neither of them said anything. Just standing side by side, Stan's arm wrapped around Rick's shoulders, looking out at that inky darkness. But then something in Rick's pocket started beeping and they were pulled out of that trance.

While Rick fished around his pockets Stan check his watch. 12:13. They'd been out here for over an hour and a half. And he'd made his goal of talking to Rick before the day ended. Or technically started talking to him before midnight. They hadn't talked about everything. They might be out here until sunrise if they tried to do that. But they had actually talked and that's what made Stan relieved but still suprised. Usually they never talked about stuff like this. Both of them kept personal shit to themselves or broke out into a string of small arguments. But maybe tonight's talk might be a baby step in a good direction for them.

As Rick shoved a small green plasma screen back into his pocket he turned back to Stan. "Hey babe, you mind if we head back now? I still got stuff I gotta work on. Cant leave it all lying around too long."

"Yeah I'm good." Stan said, this had been an alright night. And now having two days in a row trying to go all night he felt exhausted.

So right behind Rick, Stan watched as he took out his new Portal gun and fired it back to their home. And he followed behind him back into Rick's workshop. When he stepped through Rick had already slid back into his chair and set his next project down in front of him. It seemed like he was ready to just go back to hyper focusing on his work. But before stepping through the gateway portal, he went up right behind Rick and kissed him on the side of the head. "Night babe, don't stay up to late alright?"

"I do what I want, bitch!" Rick grumbled, though Stan could tell he was smileing. "'Night Lee."

With that Stan stepped back through the portal to their apartment laughing. It was completely dark in their bedroom. The rest of their home was just as empty and quiet. The only lights coming from the streetlight out side and the few digital clocks in the living room and kitchen. There wasn't any light coming out from the Mortys' room so Stan assumed they must of all gone to bed on his own.

Unable to resist, he silently opened the door and glanced inside. Everyone was in their beds and sleeping. Greaser, Hippy Morty and Mortica in their bunks, Miny Morty and Test X1 in their home-made matchbox beds on the nightstand.

Only Guard Morty and the Egg were up. He was sitting in is bottom bunk under Greaser Morty. He was surrounded by a nest of blankets and he had the Egg in his lap. When Stan opened the door he looked up.

"Hey kid you still up?" He asked in a hushed voice. The little fetus Morty swiveled around in his egg to look at Stan too. Eyes wide open like he knew something, it still freaked Stan out a little but he was growing use to the weird Morty.

"I'll go to bed soon Stan." Guard Morty whispered back. "I'm working on it."

"You want me to get you anything? Like milk or whatever?" He dropped his voice lower when he saw Morticia start murmuring in, but she stayed asleep much to Stan's relief.

"No, I'll manage. Good night Stan."

"'Night kiddo." Stan said, then trying to be as quiet as before shut the door. He still wanted to try and help Guard Morty but he still seemed pretty stubborn in being independent and keeping to himself. But even with that said he could still show the kid support if nothing else. Show him that he was welcomed here and that they all cared about him.

And while he didn't get what was happening he was happy to see Guard Morty with the Egg at least. Who knew, maybe he was talking to the Egg?

Exhausted, but finally having a few of the stresses and worries from the past few days gone, he went back his his and Rick's bedroom and went to bed. The green glow on the fixed portal to Rick's labs glowing softly in their room. And Stan couldn't help but smiling, how something so alien and bizarre had become a comfort to him.

But maybe that's just what being with Rick Sanchez and Morty Smiths can do to you.


End file.
